The War
by Sage of Eyes
Summary: A grievous mistake at his hands, and the world suffers. Magic is revealed but that only belittles the scope of this mistake's magnificence. It can only be called magnificent, for it is what it is. Evil prevails, and those true suffering befalls Humanity by the hands of those who only wished it well. It is his mistake, his cross to bear and carry through he burned world.
1. Chapter 1

The War.

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Disclaimer: I have no legal claim upon any characters/plot used within.

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Prologue:

The world was crumbling all around him, light coming from the heavens itself and striking the land without qualm or hesitation. Lofty clouds swirled in the night sky as magic hidden for so many years, cascaded down from the heavens to cause suffering. A mockery of divine or even demonic might, it struck the land and the earth trembled underneath his feet as he walked. The magic was not demonic or divine it was mundane, enacted by a ritual made by men.

The sodden man beholding the cataclysm of the world was unable to stop it, and it was quite simple to state and illogical to disprove that it was because of his actions that it was all happening. He was covered in ashes, coat and clothing covered in soot just as his was his sharp face that betrayed a lifelong of severity and his shaggy hair. The only color upon the person that continued to walk amongst the ash and rubble was the streaks of dried blood upon his mouth.

It was a law that he had not expected, a truth that even the simplest mind could comprehend, but he had forgotten as he ordered the destruction of the container. Nothing disappears, but all things simply change form. The Servants of the men he fought were but catalysts, fuel to create the miracle that they had all sought to grant their dearest wish.

The heroes were summoned across the ages, sought the same device for one purpose or another, they were pinnacles of humanity and were each powerful in legend and name enough that when seven were sacrificed any wish could be granted within the bindings of the user's perception. Energy that he did not wish to use as the champion of the war, but rather to erase as it was corrupted by the embodiment of all of man's evils. He sought to champion the six billion others who dwelled the earth and erase it from the world using a magic that his unwilling servant wished to use to destroy it utterly.

But power does not die, and most certainly power of such magnitude that used such spirits as its catalysts. It was created to power wishes of human minds and mentalities, it was created with the purpose to find the center of all creation and knowledge by a man who was more well learned than any man who ever lived. It was a device without feeling, and as such only sought to grant the wishes of the man that was granted its power.

It was never thought that it would be rejected at the height of its power for any reason and that power was simply unleashed in a way that its closest influence would be at the moment. The man who'd designed it simply thought if such a thing would happen, some animal of sorts would receive some food created from nothing out of the sacrifice of the Heroic Spirits and was quite entertained at the thought.

But the closest being to the Grail was not a simple animal, and it was not content in some seeds and nuts at the moment. It wanted every being on the world, to suffer. For every child to roast slowly upon pikes, for every mother to be raped by beasts, for every man to be castrated and fed his own organs as all they fought for burned before their eyes in conflagrations of horror and brutality, for every elder to see their sons and daughters to commit the acts as they were crucified to walls made from the bones of their ancestors. It wanted friends to betray each other, for lovers to tear at each other in frenzy. It wanted murder, rape, pillaging, and destruction only for the sake of murder, rape, pillaging and destruction.

It was called Angrya Manyu, and it was all the evils of the mankind, and it held limited power over the dispersing energies of the most powerful ritual ever concocted by progeny. It sought suffering, endless suffering to all people and it could do no better than what it already knew it could.

And so, the hopes of dreams of mankind fell from the heavens only as suffering because of one man. A man who could see the clouds gather and spew hell upon the world, again and again and again and again and again and again.

The man that walked the rubble was only a machine that sought to find someone that he could save, someone that breathed, someone that survived the terrible atrocities he created without thought. He ignored the heat of metal as it burned his flesh as he pried it off of families, he tried to nurse a boy as the corpse last spasms of life hacked the curse he unleashed onto him, he was alone as he dug and dug and dug through material that he could not discern was dirt, ash, or human remains.

Until he saw a hand reaching for the sky where the malevolent clouds still hung like a terrible curse upon the world, only then did he become a man once more as he grasped the boy's hand and repeated over and over again 'thank you' as the fires conflagrated and shook the ground as it expanded through the entire world without qualm or hesitance.

With the same countenance of the magic destroying the world he pulled from his jacket another magic, the same he summoned his almighty servant with, and pressed it against the boy. It melted into him without pause and as the boy began to heal, and once the poor child closed his eyes in slumber, the man took him into his arms and sought refuge amongst the rubble wrapping the boy safely in his arms as ash continued to fall to choke the ground and scrams tore into air around them more and more and more.

His name was Emiya Kiritsugu and all he wanted was to be a hero.

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	2. Chapter 2

The War

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Disclaimer: I make no monetary gain is made from this.

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Chapter Two: Prologue.

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"Please, Emiya-san, be reasonable."

"I do not wish my son to be fettered in to such a life, Yamada-san." Emiya spoke softly, but there was unwavering steel in those words.

"And I do not want the people I lead to be fettered to a miserable existence upon this mountain." Yamada groused, bringing his fist sharply upon the wooden table. The frustration was building up to a climax within the chosen 'Leader' of the collection of survivors housed on what had once been temple lands. Thanks to the natural Leyline within there was no lingering residue of the cursed fluid that drenched the lands only two years ago, washed away by the strength of the nature itself.

Kiritsugu Emiya had personally led the collection of survivors that made up the bulk of the remnants Fuyuki city, before the government agent arrived from Tokyo twelve months ago. Yamada Karachi had expected to only be an advisor to the Magus when he arrived, especially when he did not find the remnants of the Police force within the communities' protection finding the man's leadership lacking even with the public backing of the seedier remnants that made up the bulk of the communities' protection program.

Most of the people within the boundaries of the community carved into the mountain would still defer to the soft-spoken, tired man before him, rather than himself. Karachi could hardly blame them as well. Of the two thousand living inside the wooden city, he could hardly name a couple dozen who did not owe some sort of debt- ranging from food to their very lives- to the black-haired Magus, and they were indebted to the foreign Magus Waver Velvet who had been extracted to help his own country two months ago.

Though, the rather young leader doubted that if Waver Velvet had saved the majority and Emiya the minority, he would be the pseudo-leader of the group. Despite the boy's soft-spokeness, he had a terrifying effect to create light amounts of fanaticism among those he saved. Seeing the young man lead a search party in the ruined city after a pillar of camp-smoke had been sighted had been an inspiring day, the difference was like night and day when the young man was in a situation where there were lives on the line.

Completely unlike the professionalism exuded by Kiritsugu Emiya when he risked his life everyday into the ruins of the city and saved lives so casually. The difference between the two was like night and day, the only thing they had in common was the subject of the current conversation.

The red-headed boy, gently sleeping on cot attached to the wall.

"Shirou is a ward of the state," Yamada stated lowly, lifting his hand from low table. Feeling bile rise in his throat as he executed the threat he had planned. "You have no legal claim upon him, Emiya Kiritsugu, it is under my power as the ambassador to this town from the Japanese government to decide for his best interests.

"If that is such, I will go to a place where he and I cannot be bothered of such things." Kiritsugu stated calmly, as always, before picking up the cup of tea that had been poured from the steel in the middle of the table. The heater inside worked to keep their legs warm as well heat the tea, a Japanese innovation that was steadily making its way through the world now with the strict rationing of Natural Gas. The cup reached had only reached the man's lips when the normally dull tone and empty eyes sharpened to a razor edge alongside the next words. "You know better than to try and threaten me, Yamada. I am not as easily cowed as Waver Velvet by national ties."

Then, almost suddenly, the man's eyes returned to its normal dull luster as he sipped his tea contently, allowing the young man in the suit's heartbeat to return to normal in the moment of silence later on, but he couldn't help but feel relieved that he could say that he would be able to actually ask the man this time in his report to his superiors this time around.

Who knows, maybe when the Matou and Tohaska finally decide to go public Kiritsugu would turn his mind around.

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Chapter Two.

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I awoke to a gentle shake on my shoulder, I tried to rub my eyes only that it was a fruitless effort with the combination of glass and composite material that covered my eyes from the harsh landscape's effects. As the dregs of sleep slowly filtered away, I carefully activated the twenty-seven circuits housed within my spine. The sudden buzz of magic alongside its familiar aches washed away the ebbing remnants of my sleep, the only remainder of my rest was the remarkable clearness of my thoughts.

The gloved hand left my shoulder after I lowered my hand and gave a short nod. A glance over the hood, past the pair of mounted fifty caliber turret mounts, of the uncovered pickup truck my compatriots and myself rode upon greeted me with the reason why I was currently upon a hastily refurbished American pickup truck that was easily older than I was.

"Any ghouls?" I inquired, the filter-mask making it awful to speak after my mouth went stale, but I was already used to that given the amount of time I spent having the piece of equipment on. Thankfully it wasn't like the stock gasmasks my companions wore that was were more akin to rubber facemasks with tubing connected to a less than optimal filter wrapped around midsection. My own was a more expensive filtration system that just scrubbed whatever air I was about to breath in through the two scrubbers composed of layers of fabricated material held by ceramic composite lined with rubber and held in place by a magnetic link system housed within non-abrasive cloth that wrapped around my neck.

It was good to see my Tracing was still in order after my rest, sleep came by with such rarity I was sometimes convinced I would forget everything I learned the moment I closed my eyes.

"A few dozen," The Staff-Sergeant replied, idly checking her semiautomatic rifle, a refurbished weapon from the World War 2 era. The only change from the refurbishment was that it was now chambered for rounds akin to slugs, a hasty necessity when limbs needed to be blown off to stop a target. "Nothing worth waking you over, though." She jutted her chin towards the Corporal sitting next to the rear-most fifty caliber. "Nagisa was pretty convinced you were dead when you kept sleeping after he went to town on the last batch with his turret, mind sharing the secrets of your miraculous revival?"

"Sleeping next to a Helicopter rotor a few times helps," I deferred lightly, earning a few chuckles from the fire team I was officially an attaché for the moment. "What's our time of arrival?"

"ETA is around five minutes." The Staff Sergeant said simply, before pointing at one of the buildings that surrounded the remains of the chemical plant. "My team and I will deploy in the second story after we destroy the stairwell and park this diesel guzzler a few clicks out with some camo-netting as protection."

I shook my head. "Make that only a click," I advised, changing their plans to keeping the car a few minutes away to a single minute. "If the Apostle gets past me, chances are you'll need to gun it out of here."

"But that won't happen right- sir?" The man across me inquired hesitantly, as the Sergeant relayed orders to the driver, and I had to pause at his apprehension at my advice. I did not remember his name similarly to the Staff Sergeant, and his nametag was faded enough to make mistranslation a very dangerous option, so I didn't know to address him.

"It never hurts to be prepared for any situation." I stated simply, giving a nod towards the man. "I am prepared to give it my all, but these enemies we face are not to be taken lightly."

As if my words weren't ominous enough we hit a pothole at the end of the sentence, making our vehicle's hull to creak. I made a mental note after I analyzed the truck to tell the mechanics to loosen the axles.

"You're quite different from the last Magi we dealt with," He seemed to flounder for a name I had not given, as in accordance with the orders I had been given.

"Hotshot." I added helpfully, the my apt-designation within the small collection of Magi employed by the state. Truth be told none of us knew each other's names, or even each other's faces, moments in time when I met a fellow Magus was rare beyond measure since there were only 17 of us in the district. Each one of us had a nickname given to us for identification purposes.

I had enough luck to get assigned to a Rapid Deployment Unit comprised mostly of Japanese Self-Defense Forces on my first mission, and with their mostly passive nature when in battle, my… exuberance in the first battles and the subsequent conflagration that concluded them led to my nickname and it subsequently stuck through the report afterward.

It was better than Number 06 at the very least, and that gasoline truck should have definitely been siphoned for its contents and not left somewhere it was liable to get shot at.

"Hotshot." He mulled the nick name over, before giving a nod. "You're quite different from our last Magi, Hotshot, for one you're-"

"Personable." The Corporal stated.

"Normal." The man across from him agreed.

"Human." The last man snickered before the Staff-Sergeant clammed them up with a fierce glare behind the visor of her mask.

"-what they said." The man across me stated weakly, and I took a moment to full out my own goggles from my coat as the winds picked up and began to blow dust onto us. "Clear Eyes wasn't exactly the envy of socialites everywhere," He flinched at the Sergeant's glare. "She was very… apathetic to us." He finished weakly as the other's, even the Sergeant, scoffed.

"She didn't give a damn if any of us survived," Nagisa stated bitterly, "couldn't even get a bit of Intel about what the hell a Ghoul was, yet alone a Apostle."

"That must've been quite some time ago." I speculated, counting the years that must have passed at the incident. The man nodded as he methodically counted the numbers of bullets in his magazines.

"'Round four years ago." He admitted, "Clear's probably your age by now too, not that it made a difference when the eleven year old started chopping things up like a machine the moment we touched down." He finished bitterly, jamming the magazine into the receiver, had it not been a refurbished gun from the World War era it would have probably broken it. "One moment we're trying to puzzle why we're flying on fumes into a refugee camp, the next we get told we have to start shooting anyone that's bleeding with a little girl spreading blood and launching limbs everywhere."

I tilted my head forward, "Please accept my apology on her behalf, Nagisa-san." I stated lowly, "As children we're taught to subdue our feelings since they could cause fluctuations within our bodies that may end up killing us." The back of the truck seemed quieter after my declaration, but I continued. "It is only after we've trained extensively, is when we can hope to open ourselves up to others and feel."

My tinted wind buffers prevented him from seeing my eyes as I stared into his own. There was humility in there, and a touch of shame, I didn't need to hear his acceptance, but I could hope.

The truck stopped and the driver gave a few raps on the window. The soldiers burst into motion, the first four quickly disassembling the four mounted guns while the driver and the Staff Sergeant quickly hefted the two cases of surplus fifty caliber ammunition.

I moved to make my own preparations off the truck when Nagisa stopped me, fifty caliber hefted on his shoulder with a degree of difficulty. On the ground I was suddenly aware that he was quite the giant, almost a foot taller than myself.

"I'm glad to know that she didn't mean to act like she did." He stated simply, before he poked a finger into my vest, it was almost the size of a bullets his gun was using. "And that means you don't need to apologize, Hotshot."

He was gone before I could reply, but I couldn't help but chuckle as he made his way up the building obviously less grim than was while speaking about his mission with Clear Eyes.

It was humorless though, mainly because I knew Clear Eyes and she was almost exactly as he described. Cold, ruthless and without a care beyond what she could cut up with that blade of hers.

I didn't like thinking about having to tell Command about another squad she couldn't get placed in but it was their orders that anything 'unsavory' be reported so it wouldn't conflict with what Public Relations were cooking up. Truthfully, I disliked the lies that were told about me and my kind, and what we did and how we acted. As if we were the answers to everyone's problems.

I glanced around the disparate landscape, the lack of green or life upon the dark soil and sighed softly.

I only had to look in the distance to know why people needed the lies that they were told.

Because it is a lie that kept people alive.

A fake hope, that kept people alive and working.

It didn't make it any less bitter.

I only wished someone would actually accept my apologies.

Wind blew past me and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stiffen when the stench of my prey reached my nose. A combination of rotting corpses and metallic iron, the stench came from the northeast and very, very far away. It was not a pleasant thought that I could sense the beast from such a far distance, only mature and therefore experienced Apostles had scents like this.

Given the fact my last experience with something similar almost got my arm lopped off, I was more than a bit wary of facing something that was accustomed to the near-unstoppable body and regenerative abilities that were inherent to nearly all Dead Apostles.

Not even counting whatever Mystic Code they managed to keep running after they went under, they were certainly more than what a rifle squad could deal with and even those were high in demand to maintain the civilian zones. With resources spread thinly the only reason the potential slaughterers were only targeted when they decided to take residence near a large population center or something classified as vital to the economy.

The Uchinagi Steelworks complex was a gigantic compound dating all the way back to Imperial Japan's war buildup for the second World War. After the war it was shut down, the economy had no chance to support it. It was recommisioned two years after the sundering and its people flocked to man it, alongside the steady job that it promised it was protected by a platoon of troops making it one of the safest places in the world.

Well until two weeks ago when the platoon was slaughtered alongside the families they protected and turned into ghouls. The first signs of the demise of over a hundred men were when ghouls started appearing on the borders of the refugee town a few miles away, until the beasts came upon the town people thought that the factory was just experiencing radio problems again.

Militia caught unaware, the town was ravaged after they were consumed, the supply caravan hit the first wave of spreading ghouls thirty miles away from the town. They almost got overwhelmed but managed to make a retreat and consolidate with a patrol to wipe out the mindless bodies.

The threat was reported after the battle and now I was here, the closest available magus. The closest person that could have a chance to actually kill the being without launching a dozen cruise missiles into the vital factory.

To be completely frank, my training under my father made me very good at killing a lot of things, it was only error in application that could hope to get me killed.

Errors like not checking my equipment before entering combat, I dully reminded myself, cutting off my train of thought and removing my long coat to begin the process ingrained into my bones.

The ballistic vest needed new planting for the lower left abdominal side, a rifle round slammed into it around two days ago from the group of bandits that were hanging around my district. The shell was stopped by reinforced skin, but would've torn through without the ballistic vest's ceramic plating. The chances of a bullet entering the entry point was slim though, so it wasn't that high of a priority.

A quick reach into the side pouch strapped to my thigh and I retrieved my medical kit. The throwaway syringes were mostly painkillers, but had blood-clotters in the mix. Its kept me from bleeding out more than once, and stopped bleeding faster than bandages or stitches could, though the medical stapler was available if the cut nicked an artery and I had an two clips of the sterilized metal staples, enough to patch together the entire squad. The only problem was that I was at two of six of the syringes at the moment, not an ideal number to be facing any sort of creature beyond humans in prolonged battle.

I already knew I was in even worse straights when I felt the weight of my revolver, only double the number of syringes in bullets in its six chambers. The ammunition pile on my left thigh only amounted to a single one of my specialized rounds bringing me up to one short of a full cylinder.

Not good, and I only had six shots in my other gun's magazine. If this Apostle was like the other one I faced, I would have to decide to unload the rounds from both my guns either into the Apostle itself or its familiars.

Whatever I chose though, I would have to face the other with either my bare hands or whatever projection I could manage. Kiritsugu would actually be rolling in his grave if he found out I'm planning to face something with swords of all things, while I was so horribly low in ammunition…

A frigid breeze caught my arms, and I grabbed my coat and reapplied the only protection I had against the wind rolling from the north before I got sick.

Natural Immunity to small caliber bullets didn't come with protection to Influenza, and that killed scores of people every day.

I raised my hand towards the second story of the building, receiving a flash from a flashlight as a response. A communicator would've been a more efficient way to communicate, but ammunition was a higher priority than a sat-uplink and a whole lot easier to replace if things went south and we all died.

…

The entrances to the building numbers at a godly three, the first two were on opposite sides of the building with hallways that acted as designated kill zones. The third was the parking structure that acted as the exit zone, that was also the main kill zone wired with no less than thirteen 'last resort' charges that could send molten metal spilling into the crevice at ignition.

The only windows were narrow firing slits, the pipes were simply three inches in diameter and used in groups. Military paranoia at its finest during second world war was my infiltration objective.

Truly the safest way to enter would have been the underground steam circulator that led to a container three miles away from the site, but the molten metal that exuded within wouldn't cool for another three weeks. The entire tube was filled with superheated steam and also showed no signs of the pressure lessening within.

Truth be told my own mission objectives were quite different from my allies, intelligence already verified that most of the bodies were accounted for, save for nearly eighty workers, yet the Apostle had yet to move to a new feeding area.

It was possible the Apostle was not a new born and was actually one that could think clearly, and was quite intent on securing a new, very defensible home in the form of the steel works factory.

I had noticed in my mission objective there was a new step before the usual culmination of undead hunts, and I didn't quite like it.

'Make Contact with Target and Verify Threat Level.'

And the usual 'Swift Elimination of all Hostiles' was changed to 'Approach with Caution'. Quite frankly most of the higher ups have never even met a vampire, but was absolutely well versed in their threat to the few sanctuaries within the country. 'Approach with Caution' was standard procedure with these beings, alongside with heavy gunship support and napalm warheads.

A being that could create an untiring labor force to man the steel factory, doubtlessly provided from the Penal Workforce, would be endlessly beneficial to the overall war to keep humanity alive. I was quite aware that, should it have been possible, they wanted me to actually broker a deal with the being within the factory bartering the many prisoners deemed 'irredeemable' in the eyes of the government.

Any Mage raised by a standard family would undoubtedly kill the being, whatever its intentions may be. They were, after all, the culmination of generations of power brokering, skills, and magics that represent all the cumulative knowledge of hundreds, if not thousands, of men and women. The powers they had at their fingertips make my own feeble in comparison, but they were chained down by the same culture that gave them their strength. Those chains were utilized by my father to kill them with frightening ease, and he taught me to do the same and discount the very premise of such a narrow life. The legacy that I have today is not from three hundred generations but three, my father learned from his teacher, I learned from my father, and I continue to learn every day until I could pass it on.

Someway, though, I was somehow regarded the most efficient and effective magic user of my country, and debatably the world and that was probably why I was on this mission and not someone like Clear Eyes or Silence. Both of them would raze this place to the ground the moment they arrived and, due to their solitary nature, no one would be the wiser. I would follow the mission directive, since I saw what my superiors saw, and if it didn't appeal to me it was still within my power to kill the aberration to life. That was why I was lauded by the general military as what a magic user should be, and the reason why I was scorned by most of my fellows.

I could only guess at their hatred, but I was sure that it was because I was scorning their cultural roots and getting the praise and admiration they had every right to. In a sense, I felt that it was a small price to pay to receive these unsavory missions, alongside my near zero contact with my fellows, in favor of being able to operate on my own and help as much as I can.

I still would've preferred doing my task in some large area rather than the claustrophobic, caustic confines of the solitary air vent I had to access on the structure's rooftop. The grill that had protected the entrance was made from a thousand pounds of steel and within a slanted shaft of armored, reinforced concrete. It would've taken over a hundred feet of corded steel and two tanks of that time period to wrench the grill off and make it a valid entrance for a single soldier at a time.

They hadn't accounted for the fact that a single infiltrator may have the ability to strengthen his body enough to create an opening from the solid steel with his bare hands, of course, and doing it silently by altering its metallic structure enough to do so silently, because that was supposed to be impossible.

I tend to do a lot of things that take advantage of supposed impossibilities, especially when I utilized the skills my father had taught me to their full potential. The three skills were the absolute core of my own magical techniques, and due to the fact that they were seen to be hopelessly worthless by other magic users, it was quite alright for me to seek 'mundane' help regarding how to augment them correctly.

In retrospect I may not be helping out my case of supposedly trying to reconcile steal the spotlight of my fellow magic users when I'm reading scientific journals on metal's properties rather than old, dusty tomes and always discussing the concepts of my three magics so openly with others.

I reached the end of the vent, and it hovered directly below an empty vat that used to contain the molten compounds required to make steel. I removed my sooty glove from my right hand, after using it to brush away the residual ash from where I intended to apply my magecraft. It was for the best to manipulate as close to a hundred percent of a certain material as much as possible, more than a few elements do not react kindly when they are forcibly made weaker. Those tended to be the same which was mainly concentrated energy, such as coal or oil, and weakening their bonds sometimes resulted in immediate combustion.

Alteration was a simply magecraft used mostly by alchemists to break down elements to their base components, it was quite easy to utilize due to its simplistic nature of rearrangement and shaping of a material. It was the most useful spell in my possession simply because if I had access to all the compounds required it was a simple matter to manufacture my own bullets, or even recreate a car part from scrap so long as the exact amount or more than what was required to be made.

I heard Alchemists call it Equivalent Exchange in the mainland, and Alteration was simply one of the easiest ways to use it upon raw compounds.

For now, however, I simply weakened the four centimeters of steel beneath me, and shifting them to the sides. Unlike the thousand pounds of steel utilized in the grate, I had no difficulty in shifting this much mass of steel. Magic was simply using magical energy to accomplish a task that could be done by bore hands, after all. Moving the mass of a few square inches of steel barely 4 centimeters thick, was much easier than a shifting the higher density of the thousand pound grate to the sides.

Once the hole was wide enough to allow me entrance, I slipped through and aimed to fall past the cooling container of molten steel.

I was about midway to the floor when an object tore past my ceramic plate vest's upper right chest piece within seconds, sending me flying through the railings and cratering the floor.

Reinforcement was the use of a mage's energy to 'perfect' their body. Theoretically it is possible to layer enough magic to achieve diamond-like thickness and strength to skin, make nerves transmit reactions to ten times of that of a regular humans, and increase muscles enough to lift eight times your own weight. That was for the entire body as well, not just singular Reinforcement that slightly slows the perception of time, augments vision, are just a few projects many a Magus strive to complete and hoard.

There were dangers too it of course, imperfect attempts to double the oxygen content within my blood has led to more than a few fainting spells before I managed to find the correct, stable amount that allowed me a slightly faster thinking process. The number of times I've accidently damaged my eyes, arms and legs during my training to enhance my skills number in the hundreds.

The one that was I was at most ease with, however, was making my body as hard as steel. It was the same skill that saved my life, as the rusty metal railing pricked my back but did not pierce my skin as I was propelled by the object straight onto the floor. The pressure was enormous, my right shoulder was pinned down, and whatever held it down did not waver as attempted to crush it with the same grip I used to tear apart the metal shutters.

My surprise and confusion bled through, and I used Structural Analysis on the object that was pinning me down onto the soot covered floor.

Structural Analysis was my last form of magic, at the moment, another skill so common to Magi it wasn't so heavily frowned upon to by seen by mortal eyes. The magic was created in conjunction with Alteration, to find and identify compounds and how they were arranged to create an object. Utilizing the power on a modern appliance created a blueprint in my mind that lists all the various metals and plastics used within, and how it can be fixed. To a further extent the common ritual was also utilized to pry into the body of organisms, probing for muscle groupings and arrangements to see the extent of training or skill. The pragmatic skill was the same reason why Mages burned their dead, and bodies of magical users were utilized as bargaining chips by nations, due to the easy ability to discern what created the prowess of the individual.

Due to the skills practical uses, the extensive training that I had been pressed into to learning the skill was the same for nearly all my fellow mages. As long as we were in contact with the enemy, its weaknesses were as clear as day.

The object was compromised of super-dense bone, and was linked through a serious of muscular tissues to a main body fifteen meters away, which was a dubiously misshaped flesh golem that seemed to be comprised of human remains. The tendril was compromised with almost the same amount of muscle as three fully grown men, but another was already reared for a second strike with a third erecting itself dubiously from its base. No wonder there were nearly no ghouls emanating from this place…

Two more strikes from this would most certainly kill me, the realizing coming as my perception of time slowed marginally as the first liters of hyper-oxygenated blood filled into my brain. Tranquility ruled my mind, as I formulated a plan to escape.

The hyper-compressed, human bone spear was holding me down with a dull point and the muscle fibers of no less than three entire humans could be stopped from impaling me with my right hand. The reinforced musculature and bone within the limb groaned and screamed as over bearing weight continued to press upon it. My ability to lift up an average four-seated car made it all too apparent that this weapon was by all means designed to kill with ease, a group of ordinary soldiers would have been ripped to shreds within seconds.

I retreated my Structural Analysis net from the creature, memorizing the tensile strength the was steadily gathering and comparing it immediately against the estimations on its arrival and my subsequent death at contact. If my math was correct, the second skeletal spine would reach me within three seconds at the least and five at the most, the third coming a second and a half later. Since I fully expected the worst, I suspected I would only get two second for my action before I was unceremoniously killed.

My left hand made contact with the concrete below, and I would have jumped up in elation if not for the spine pining me solidly upon the ground. Reinforced concrete lay underneath me, military experts of world war two somehow thinking to protect the factory even from an underground tunneling operation.

Finding the necessary substances adequate, I applied Alteration to the concrete and sifted through the material until my hand grasped the metal underneath. I would have attempted a similar thing to my attempt to destroy the spine, if not for the sheer complexity of its design. I swiftly pulled out a segment of steel from the gloppy cement, utilizing the complex carbons chains to manifest a monomolecular edge along one side of the steel rod.

The hyper-dense bone was strong but the musculature powering it gave away like butter. The tendril went slack for the merest of moments before I managed to peel away to avoid to second spear of bone. I quickly got up to a knee, my eyes tracing the direction of flight from which the tendril extended. The monomolecular rod within my hand was a poor weapon against such a beast, but it still had its uses.

I flooded the rod with energy, its non-magical origins quickly degrading due to the massive influx of energy. The bonds of the material would most certainly break and force the barely contained energy to burst forth in an explosive manner after it did so. The rod of metal was no longer aerodynamic in the least, after the surge of energy entered it and forced it to expand. A quick application of Alteration had me holding a barely cylindrical mass before I let it loose at the source of the third bone spear that forced me out of my position.

The outward, violent expansion of energy lit up the creature swimmingly and I had already un-holstered my revolver and aimed at the revealed beast when the metal exploded.

The gun itself was merely a regular weapon, the rounds within the near-empty magazine, however, were not. The bullets were tipped with armor-piercing, depleted Uranium with a full-metal jacket encasing a remote charge of miniscule amounts of Composition Four explosives. They were designed to only allow activation after rapid deceleration after rapid acceleration. The acceleration speeds provided by the near-explosive quality of the accelerants pushed the bullets to Mach 1 and generated a sonic 'boom' whenever it exited the barrel. It was an anti-armor weapon of the highest degree and designed to penetrate three inches of reinforced concrete and five layers of sandbags without dropping below the punching strength of a rifle round.

I held the revolver steady with one hand and fired into the beast with as much speed as I could muster, the chambers clicking to empty within seconds. The slow, enormous creature could not have dodged even given the chance of a friendly warning. The bullets made contact the moment the hammer reeled back after touching their respective percussion caps.

The hyper-dense bone had done a magnificent job of keeping the bullets within the beast's body, so when I activated via then small transmitter by the hammer of the gun the Composition Four packets faithfully lodged within its body activated and the effects were marvelous. The Uranium tips were propelled forward and exited the body and punched through the wall behind, doing the least damage to the massive creature. The copper covering the explosive ordinance were propelled to the speeds of rifle rounds and ripped themselves out as if an angry gunner was within the beast. The C4, lodged within the beast as it was, had the same effect of four firecrackers exploding within a clenched fist.

It was very, very messy. The ammunition was so exorbitantly priced that I was the lone Magi provided with them in Japan, if not for the numerous other magi specializing in modern weaponry as I did, I would probably be the only one.

Then, just as I was about to start savoring my victory, an enormous roar escaped somewhere from the building. The rock, bone, and chunks of meat that littered the floor vibrated at the mighty sound. Thick and heavy steps grew closer and closer as the roar became more and more deafening, the sound began to echo against the walls so loudly and frequently that I lost the source of the sound within moments.

Then the wall behind me collapsed explosively, showering steel and concrete everywhere. I did not even have a moment to reach into my jacket for my second weapon when a gigantic, bony limb made contact with my body and ripped through my ceramic plate as if it didn't exist making me drop my empty revolver in the process. Lances of pain erupted through my body as hardened bone dug into steel skin and muscle with little difficulty.

Raw instinct immediately dictated my next, foolish, move would be to pry myself off the massive object. Two bones pierced into my right hand trapping the limb without care against the sinews below and my left was perforated by a single, massive bone that erupted out the back of my hand, thankfully not being caught. The pain was the most I ever felt, the lodged bones ceasing to stop moving as muscles below continued to drive whatever godforsaken beast this was forward.

Then I was slammed through concrete by the limb as it moved through the walls. My body was flatted against the jagged bone, a shard pierced the mask upon my face with ease as my ribs fought against the invading bone. No part of my body felt hale and whole, but when the sun casted upon me after the second wall I forced myself up and look upon the beast that had me thoroughly at its mercy.

My breath caught.

Compromised of human flesh and bone, before me was a beast long thought to be exterminated by a Saint centuries ago. Eyes lined the 'forehead' of the creature ranging from blue to gray and standard brown. The collection of eyes were right above rows of jagged teeth that used to protect a human's cardiovascular system. When my entire body responded to pain at my attempt to turn my head over to look upon the creatures back, I utilized Structural Analysis to manifest a framework model of the beast within my mind.

My eyes barely had time to widen before I realized this thing had wings and a fully intact mind within its cranium, when the former began to flap and drive the great undead reptile into the air. The beast gained altitude at an alarming rate that doubled at ever flap of its mighty wings, the watch on my wrist set to beet at every twenty five feet of elevation. I would have to free fall to get off this thing, and I doubted I could withstand a fall from whatever this beast's maximum altitude would be, my survival at two hundred feet was dubious and three hundred would kill me no matter how much I managed to reinforce my cloak enough for a glider.

But this undead beast was most certainly an undead Apostle, dangerous was an understatement. I could not allow this to get away, yet at the same time the actions required to destroy it was well beyond my ability.

A third beep sounded, I was now seventy five feet from whence I had been a minute before. The ascension speed was almost the same as that of a helicopter, the beast made from the flesh of two hundred thirty three men and women was sculpted by the brain within to such an extent that I felt excitement in the study that will bear fruit to from the carcass that would remain. This beast was a masterpiece, no matter from which angle perception granted upon the well-informed.

I reached into the back of my neck with my right hand, willing the energy that hardened the flesh away made it succumb to strengthen steel fingers with ease. The pain was subdued compared to the massive hole that was upon the hand that had done the act, allowing me to concentrate upon the square inch of titanium that encased a Global Positioning Satellite Locater within. I molded the tracking device to the musculature underneath the writhing mass of bone scales, a web of titanium that rippled within the beast and made sure that the locator would not be dislodged or destroyed.

The fourth beep rang out just as I had finished, and I attempted to pull away only for my right arm to remain trapped. The massive tug that I had attempted to rip my arm away with did not succeed in pulling me free. The limb was unquestionably trapped, and I knew I was running out of options as the limb flexed and tore into my chest and legs.

A fifth beep, I was now a hundred and twenty five feet from the ground, I would survive a two hundred foot fall no question but I would no doubt be unable to walk afterwards let alone reach my comrades.

I needed to destroy my right arm to free myself, I would survive without it given that the medicine I had on hand and hyper oxygenated would working in conjunction to stem the losses incurred from the blood loss.

My options were limited in removal though, the bones were organic in nature the complex chemical structure made them a dubious choice to utilize and form into a monomolecular blade, the carbon within may be lacking to from the infinitely sharp blade. The arm would be ripped to shreds if I drained the power of its reinforcement away, but would take seconds I would not have. Forming a bone blade to hack away would be beneficial in conjunction with the second option, but would still take seconds I did not have at the moment.

The third option then, with the second helping.

I cut off the Reinforcement on my right arm, lighting strikes of pain rushed up as it was ripped to shreds, and my left hand darted to the holstered weapon strapped against my right rib section.

The weapon had a three round clip, each shell the size of my fist. The weapon was the best answer to heavy weapons requirements after the sudden brushfire wars that sprung up after the Sundering. Many vehicles utilized by rebel fighters were too light for a tank shell and an armor piercing weapon. A linked conference to weapon dealers worldwide came up with a solution that now I pointed at my right shoulder at angel away from my face.

The weapon itself was a simple design with a massive ejector to ensure jamming would only be a statistical anomaly, the single barrel was the same length as the magazine and therefore could only fit a single shell within. The barrel was reinforced by carbon thread to ensure that the velocities unleashed would not warp the weapon, the trigger was a simplistic affair of composite material, since recoil would destroy the handle from anything less.

I pulled the trigger and the hammer hit the activator at the end of the fuel supply for the rocket motor that carried three entire ounces of Composition Four and one ounce of White Phosphorous encased by hardened ceramic. The shell designed to destroy vehicles and all individuals within at a single shot vaporized my flesh and bone as it propelled itself to speeds where tank plating was like paper against the ceramic warhead.

Where it hit, not even a stub remained, my right collar bone was missing alongside the uppermost ribs next to it. A fortunate side effect, however, was that the heat from the backdraft burned the flesh to black, and assured my survival against blood loss. I detached myself from the beast the moment my watch beeped for a sixth time.

I was airborne for about three seconds before my back made contact with the soil, Reinforcement ensuring that I didn't beak anything as I made contact with the unforgiving ground and finished skidding, barely five feet away from the solid concrete of the nearest building. Had I made contact with the building my demise would have been assured, but I didn't happen and pain blossomed instead of the darkness of death.

The pain was absolutely staggering, but I managed to holster the weapon in an act that was ingrained into my bones to fetch a syringe within my pack. My habit of injecting it into my now-missing right shoulder made itself known for the very first time, and I applied the cocktail of painkiller and blood clot chemicals into my jugular. Relief was thankfully immediate, and I got back to my feet hastily and unsteadily as lack of on my right side made itself apparent.

I wiped away the blood that covered my eyes, allowing Reinforcement to work upon my ocular organs and allow me to commit to memory the beast that thoroughly defeated me and which I would be participating in hunting later on.

From tail to head the beast was covered in hardened bone carapace, the length was approximately the same as one of the smaller jetliners that ferried people across the Atlantic. The thickness, however, reminded me clearly of the massive fuel containers that trucks dragged around and was protected extensively. Six limbs, I had been attached to the foremost to the left as my right arm identified, each one was the length of a lamppost and thickness of an aluminum bin, and covered in sharp bone. The wingspan was entirely too small for its size, though three times the length of itself, I had no doubt of the magic infused within it and the protections that the massive flying organs were covered upon would be thick.

Much to my bemusement the same shell that I loosed seemed to have destroyed the beasts lower left jaw, even though I had only aimed the explosive shell at myself. The mighty beasts face was utterly destroyed by the round, but I stared in horrification as bones seemed to steadily expand and return the best to former levels of health. Regeneration to an unknown extent, given the mind located within the skull, I had no doubt that like all Apostles this one would be very difficult to take down and keep down.

Then I finally registered the numerous shots that echoed through the silent complex, I made note of the beast's heading before relocating myself onto the top of the building by utilizing the window sills as stepping stones upward. My Reinforced eyes picked out the flashes from the windowsill a scant kilometer away, making it easy to spot the large congregation of ghouls that my fellows had attracted by simply being human and loud.

I was tempted to return into the steelworks factory for the revolver, but the thought of facing another tendril monster deterred me even with the remaining shots for my most powerful weapon. That thought in mind I began to leap from building to building towards my companions, though I dubious in what aid I could provide with one hand, I was a fair shot with a handgun and slicing through a mass of ghouls wielding a monomolecular blade was not completely out of the box when it came to the right situation. I still had plenty of Prana to spare, three quarters of my energy capacity still waiting to be used.

I entered unnoticed through the rooftop, where a part of the building had caved in decades earlier. I was able to tell the situation was grim when the Fifty Calibers were already disassembled and the two boxes of surplus ammunition lay empty. The group of soldiers were all at the windows and firing autonomously in single shot mode at the mass of dead below, a shot every second rang out and each one reloaded at the exact same time and within the same timeframe.

Judging by the fact that seven empty magazines littered the floor near each soldier and each one carried only ten, they were running very low on the high powered rifle rounds that fit only twelve shots into each magazine. After those were done they had their ten millimeter pistols and four clips of sixteen rounds excluding the ones already within the pistol.

"Looks like you need some help." I declared offhand to the one I recognized as the Sergeant. The others did not stop firing, as they were already well within the near trance that was ingrained into their bones to follow when fighting against the horde of enemies.

"Looks like Mr. Invincible has been disarmed." She quipped back whilst nailing a ghoul dead center on the forehead and turning the head into pink mist and grey matter. She continued to fire as if she wasn't speaking. "You lead what did that to you here?"

"Target escaped." I stated blandly, "Tagged it and gave it a goodbye kiss though."

"Could you have killed it?" She was switched magazines along with the rest of them.

"Fully armed and informed of the danger anyone could kill anything." I pointed out using my remaining hand to gesture inanely. "I doubt that I would survived the target even if I had both of those in play."

"So how are you alive now?" Nagisa quipped farther down the line, these men were much better trained than I gave them credit for.

"A lot of luck." I stated.

"Doesn't look like luck to me." the Corporal stated off to the left, they were reloading again. Their next to last magazine, this time. The palisade of dead more than five feet high was a testament to their skills, and I wondered if it would help when they started using their pistols.

"Luck is one's ability to defy fate." I stated, remembering the faint smell of tea and oil of my old home. The same place where I learned how to cook and clean guns while other kids were being taught how to farm and engineering "My father told me that."

"He sounds like a wise man." The Sergeant stated, before vaporizing the another head with impunity.

"He was a very nice man and quite wise while he was raising me." I admitted with a small smile, as I finally managed to take the last 10 mm magazine from the Sergeant's belt and attach it to my bandoleer. Doing it one handed was easy, but it was time I was waiting on.

"He wasn't wise before he was raising you?" The sergeant moved out of the way from the window after she used her last bullet. I aimed a bitter smile at her while I saluted with my borrowed gun.

"He wasn't a very lucky man." I stated simply, I walked to one of the pillars opposite of the window, awaiting for the last high caliber rifle shell to exit the barrel. I busied myself in practicing reloading the pistol with a single arm as I contemplated my chances of survival against the horde below.

Taking into account their professionalism and marksmanship I would probably only be facing one hundred ninety five ghouls, at the very most. Facing monsters that felt no pain and were no longer restrained by the normal mental bindings that stopped them from harming themselves at such a large number was usually a daunting task for most army groups, even a few Magi would balk at the number. My proficiency in conventional weaponry, and my endless supply of cutting tools ensured I was one of the few that could safely take these odds on without fear of failure. However, that was before I fired a rocket propelled grenade at my shoulder and I was more than wary of the danger that hung over my head.

I acknowledged the danger, there was no stupidity in acknowledging that on that corpse ridden floor I would most likely die in my current condition. I could only utilize one hand, there were too many friendlies to utilize the weapon that had torn off my arm, and I only wielded a ten millimeter pistol with four clips of sixteen rounds. None of the men and women present could bring down a ghoul as efficiently as they did with their rifles as with the pistol, they trained to utilize the rifle and that was where they excelled, I had no doubts with more ammunition they would have destroyed these beast without even breaking a sweat. They would, at the most, account for fifty of the one hundred, ninety five ghouls and I would face them with sixty four bullets afterwards.

Bullets will account to one hundred, fourteen deaths of these ghouls, leaving me to face eighty one ghouls in hand to hand combat with one arm and a monomolecular blade.

The hammer of the rifles fell one last time, the last round entering the foreheads of the chosen targets. The weapons hit the ground with clanks, as metal and wood always seemed to do. Sidearms were drawn and the tiniest bit of fear came from the Nagisa as he started to pray underneath his breath.

They began to fire, and my thoughts quickly came true when I started to hear the distinctive noise of metal shattering rock instead of flesh. I pushed myself off the ground, a ground eating lope that almost had me almost vertical to the ground fueled by muscles nearly perfect from Reinforcement, there was so much force I was already out of the window within one tremendous motion.

The bodies below stared as I appeared above them, watching listlessly from dull eyes as their souls were trapped within their own bodies. Their arms could crush steel, they could not feel pain, and their speed against targets they located was incredible. No normal man or woman could compete with the physical prowess of these who were no longer held back by their own bodies.

Danger is real, but fear was a choice.

I emptied the sixteen rounds into foreheads with ease, I had been trained in utilizing the weapon three months after my father rescued me and I had never stopped since. There was no target I could not hit with a projectile, even more so when my body was accelerated by the effects of Reinforcement. The magazine slipped out in a half a second, the next magazine was already within by the end of the same second, utilizing my knee to send the second magazine into the vacated spot after I shrugged it off the bandoleer.

I had no more ammunition by the time I landed upon a ghouls head, ramming a magazine into its cerebellum and kicking the others into more of the dead men.

The dead seemed to pause, as if taking in the fact that so many of their members were dispatched in the span of five seconds, within the blessing of time I drove my arm into the nearest of the beings. My hand bypassed the ribcage, pulped the cardiovascular system into an unrecognizable mess, before reaching the objective I had in mind. I crushed the spinal segment within my reach, immediately causing the beast to go limp as electrical signals no longer flowed to the rest of its body.

Inspiration struck, as I remembered the lattices of the hardened bone. I applied as much of it as I could before I placed my heel on the ghoul's abdomen and wrenched it out in great deluge of fluid. The density of the spinal column was only seven eighths of the bones of the winged beast, but it would suffice. I hurled the sharpened column lengthwise, I was rewarded with the decapitation of three ghouls at a single attack and another three's spines severed. Throwing monomolecular blades led to too many messes with attempts by numerous men and women to take one for themselves, and steel never flew very well. Bone, however, was the strength of concrete and was three times lighter.

The enemy had taken my arm, but I had taken it's technique, in magus circles I had won the war but it the battle.

I plunged my arm into another of the ghouls as they began to charge, I did not throw it this time. I Altered the skull to strengthen while allowing the fibers of the spine to elongate and stretch, I swung it out of the body in a circular manner akin to a flail. The Altered skull, still covered with pieces of flesh and a single ocular organ, shattered the heads of the ghouls charging me before it dislodged itself from the spinal column and into another hapless undead.

Curiosity overcame me with a fiery passion, I plunged my arm into the nearest unmoving cadaver, touching the spine before utilizing the body to block feral claws. I overcame the boundaries of bone with energy, as taught by my father to never do to my own body, altered the bone to its hardened form and threw it at the nearest mass of moving bodies.

Shrapnel, lighter than steel yet stronger than concrete flew in every direction surrounded by red mist of blood and the few body parts and organs only propelled by the explosion. The shrapnel bounced off my skin, but tore the beasts apart with otherworldly precision. The limbs that were merely propelled by the explosion were brushed aside by the unfeeling monsters, but the spinal segments were utterly destructive against the flesh of abominations.

It was not enough, there were still a large number of them, I grasped another body and I went beyond my previous limits of skill as I forcefully pushed energy into the body and compacted the bone to the degree I could barely differentiate it from hardened steel. In the back of my mind I realized I had surpassed the density of the beast's scales driving the density up to a tenth more than the beasts, but I gave it no heed. I needed to correctly utilize this weapon and I could only do so against the enemy.

I threw the mass of flesh and bone, the flesh was bloated and pulsing from the leaking energy it seemed to be a mass of pulsating red flesh instead the human from it had once been, the ball of flesh landed amidst a group of ghouls and destroyed them utterly. The utter extent of the weapon was within my grasp, I only needed to utilize it to maximum effectiveness with minimal energy. The amount for the latest attack was equivalent to three shattered iron rods, about an eight of my total power.

The assessment was as I had thought it would be: the least energy intensive, while killing nearly as many as the third, was the second. I merely needed to strengthen the connecting spinal column to the skull some more to ensure it didn't break off, then utilizing it as an extended flail would cost the least amongst the four in relative to the amount it killed.

I took the nearest beast and crushed the lower part of his spine, nearest to the smallest of his back. I placed my heel on the hip as I pulled it out akin to a gruesome Caesarian-Section from its body. I was rewarded with most of the ribs still connected as I tested my new weapon. As the entirety of the weapon crushed and destroyed the upper halves of the ghouls, an idea struck me and I manipulated the curves of the weapon into monomolecular edges. The results were catastrophic, especially when I struck overhead rather than swinging from side to side in a deadly hurricane. The latter bisected, but the latter destroyed. Red mist sprayed from the hunks of flesh rather than deluges of blood from midsections.

The gruesome weapon was nearing its end when I realized, that amongst the crowd of monsters only I remained.

As I looked upon the river of blood that flowed in every direction, upon the massive sprawls of red against the dripping buildings, glancing at the bodies that refused to allow the red liquid into gutters with their own pulped mass at the organs that were near pulped and lay against the ground outside of their containers. I wondered if there was a difference between me and the ones I fought. As I felt the blood dripping from nearly every edge of my body, and as the smell of blood was so thick and pungent it went through my filters I wondered if I could ever hope to close my eyes and awake to see that this was all just a nightmare.

Because out of three monsters I saw today, I could not imagine them doing as I have done in the span of a mere five minutes.

…


	3. Chapter 3

The War.

…

Disclaimer: No monetary gain is made from this.

…

Chapter 3 Prologue

…

The building was derelict, an adage to the past that held none of the security measures that were so common in many fortified, self-sufficient complexes that nearly all people lived within.

Despite that, the most of the children present could not help but gawk at its immensity. The old-age tenement housing was a massive twenty five stories high, while the aforementioned complexes most children lived within went deep into the ground instead.

"How can it be so high and not topple, father?" A bow asked, his voice amplified and turned into almost inaudible static by the mask all the children wore. "Is it magic?"

Emiya Kiritsugu gave a bitter smile, as he answered.

"Why don't you figure it out yourself, Shirou-kun?" He stated lightly, before raising his voice to the rest of the class. "Everyone, utilize Structural Analysis to view the properties of this building and compare assumptions of the ability amongst yourselves."

The group of children gave their affirmations, leaving behind his own son and his newest student.

Clad in purple and the only person not sporting a mask, Sion Eltnam was ostracized by the rest of the class of budding Magi. Her hair and the magic she had at her disposal rivaled even the heiresses that were born to their country. Her clothes were strange and she never wore a mask, as the children had always worn the uncomfortable masks and always sported the heavy fabric thread cloaks above their military uniform, more than a few were jealous of her.

Kiritsugu had stated his worry for the girl a mere day after his adopted son had come to the same conclusion. Shirou had been eager to protect the girl by driving off the many that teased her during class, but Kiritsugu guided him to merely befriending the girl and using his unofficial rank as the class's leader to dissuade the many that desired the gill any sort of ill will. The grizzled man had stated it would be better if no violence came to disrupt the class's closely knit social structure and acting as a shield would be a far better course of action.

Kiritsugu wished that he could believe his own words instead of the raging belief that the bond that would undoubtedly form between the two children will aid Shirou greatly in the future.

The girl was already showing Shirou her Ethelite and its many uses, something that the Atlas Corporation would've found absolutely infuriating at the current trade discussion between the governments that were raising from the ashes. Though he knew Shirou would never utilize structural Analysis upon it, the doubt that would be placed upon the girl would undoubtedly serve to force the Corporation to reduce the price they were demanding for the wire.

The grizzled man suddenly felt a tug on his jacket. The girl, with straight cut, black hair behind a gas mask, provided an eerie vision of the past when he was training his partner Maiya.

The veteran took a deep breath.

"Do you need something, Amine-san?" Kiritsugu inquired with his usual businesslike tone, it hid his growing nervousness around the children well.

"I'm done with the assignment." The girl's voice was unusually quiet, he had to strain his ears to hear the words through the static properly. If he remembered properly, the girl was the last of her family and would've been overlooked had it not been for the extensive screening of the population conducted a year ago. She showed the same drive to excel that all his students had, if he wasn't so adamant of training them only the basics, she would've done well with the same training as Maiya. "I am here to submit my report."

He gave a small sigh of appreciation, work served as his main distraction from the past and he was more than willing to act upon his duty.

"Alright, Anime-san, tell me what you lear-"

The sound of tearing metal did not faze him, nor did the girls sudden drawing of the bolt action rifle that was the same size as herself. The man counted the number of shots that echoed thought the ghoul infested land they had been tasked to clear out alongside with a platoon of soldiers. His class was ahead of the schedule by an entire day, and the examination of the building would provide plenty of time for the squads that were assigned to cover their flank to catch up.

"Seven!" A boy proclaimed approximately thirteen feet away. "No casualties!"

"Bring them to the pyre!" Kiritsugu called out immediately, before nodding towards the girl who was painstakingly refilling the magazine she had expended a round from. Her rifle already loaded with her only spare magazine, as she coolly took rounds from her ammunition pouch and fed them into the magazine. "Continue, Amine-san."

"According my analysis and the theories congruent to the procedure, I believe…"

…

Chapter 3

…

The uniform felt odd on my skin, too soft and breezy. Father once told me that most clothes used to be like the one I wore now, when I had been sent very first dress uniform. The thought of a world where a person could walk in such clothes outside was alien to me, the attire didn't offer protecting from the elements and neither did they seem durable.

They were comfortable though, cool and light against the skin. I was briefly tempted to Analyze the composition of the fabric when I remembered that the doctor had told me to rest my circuits for the time being, they had been to stressed.

I was the only person in the room, and I doubted anyone else would use it for months once I left. Still there were three vents keeping the room pressurized, hooked up to an electric generator at the center of the room that also powered the oxygen recycler. Stored within the central pylon was enough rations to keep me fed for three months.

I was also two hundred feet underground from the military base above, and the door that I entered through was hermetically sealed. The place was designed in mind of any attack, even underground attacks would be stopped by sheer bedrock.

Three lights beeped in unison at the top of the pylon and I got up from my seat, the bed I had been using as an improvised seat retracting into the wall with a muted hiss of hydraulics as my weight left it.

The room became pitch black, the multiple projectors housed at key points of the room whirred to life and pinpricks of blue amidst the black sea. The jewel I had inserted into the pylon earlier began to shine as the power within was being accessed.

Utilizing wireframe magic in conjunction with telecommunications satellites allowed physical apparitions of Magi to appear at certain places. Though it seemed to be a massive waste of time, many magi were distrustful of the ability to doctor footage to allow simple video conferencing. The wireframe projectors were all produced by the Atlas Union, a nation south of the Mediterranean that stretched through most of Egypt and reached Arabia, under the strict watch of all countries receiving them. The amount of resources devoted to the project was staggering, but it ensured global communications amongst the smallest percentage of the world's population.

Wire formed into figures, becoming humanoid except being utterly devoid of color save for tints of blue.

"Oh ho." A voice was projected through the speaker to my right. The projected wire frame was barely finished but I could see the haughty demeanor of one of my fellow mages clearly. "It seems Poster Boy has been disarmed."

I nodded towards her. I was unsure whether it registered until I caught a glimpse of her face as she crossed her arms.

"It seems I am catching up to your number of lost limbs, Tohsaka." I greeted her, and her face contorted into a grimace. I noted her hair was shorter, cropped closer in a pageboy cut rather than the previous flowing tresses, and there was a scar on her jaw that wasn't there during the last meet. Her singular organic eye leveled a glare at me while the other glittered dangerously, a myriad of colors, and her left hand twisted in its socket mechanically at her agitation.

Her clothing was similar to mine, a cotton shirt and mottled red and black fatigues. She didn't seem to be wearing boots as I was though. I wondered if her mission went as badly as my own, but I knew better than to ask when a few of our counterparts were steadily materializing.

"Now, now." A melodious voice came from my left, fabric flowing around her as the lines of wire represented her hair in the exact pure white it truly was. The fabric around her legs flowed as if they were searching the ground underneath her feet. The smile on her face sent chills down my spine, especially when the wire added the complex lines that went up to her cheek. "We mustn't act like children, it would be rude towards our guests."

I tried to hold back a shudder as she gazed upon us like a predator her hand straying to her mouth as she giggled.

I saw a drop of blood exit the closest finger, only to be swallowed by the multitude of familiars that covered her body.

"Lady Matou." I nodded towards her, and she feigned a curtsy that caused her to giggle. "How goes the destruction of the secessionist forces?" I asked her a question everyone already fully knew the answer to.

"Absolutely ravishing." Her voice suddenly became staccato, dropping octaves as her hands idly traced the contours of her body, her hand started to reach near her face once more but stopped when she realized what she was doing. Matou's smile widened and kept widening until we were before a set of teeth that should not have fit within a human's face. "They were more than able to sate my… hungers."

She gave a throaty purr in my direction, and I had to hold my body still to prevent it from trembling. I averted my gaze towards a pair of the newer completed frames and let some of the tension drop from my body as a steely gaze met my own, alongside a calculating one.

"Good evening Stridberg, Eltnam." I greeted my fellow hunters in Arabic, the two spent most of their time around the peninsula attempting to aid the locals against the hordes of dead shuffling from the ruins of India and China. "How fares your fight?"

"We managed to take back Dubai yesterday, Mr. Emiya." The silver haired knight, clad in black robes lined by white stated. "Though this meeting and our leave from the front may change that."

"I have calculated that there is a forty percent chance that the defenders will fall the dead within the time span of this meeting." Eltnam stated, most of her body hidden underneath the desert tarp favored by most Atlas corporations. Had she been wearing her veil, her face would have been concealed, but her purple beret and long braid would have clearly marked her out even then. "Even a minute past the calculated time span will increase the chances to eighty percent." Our eyes met across the telecommunications line. "Good evening to you to, Shirou-san." She added meekly after a moment, in Japanese.

I hid my surprise at her use of my first name.

"To you as well, Sion-san." I replied back and she nodded before stepping back, presumably closer to the door to save a second and life.

"Well." A drawling voice emanated from the corner of the room, and a giant of a man sat upon a bed like my own. His stringy black hair was combed over on both sides and held by a bandana to his forehead. "I'm all for watching an international romance, but they're not the only ones holding back the dead from retaking a shitty city." He holstered the revolver he was spinning on his finger on a harness like mine. He crouched forward in full combat gear, steeping his fingers and catching me in a cold gaze "So you better take my time seriously, boy, lots of lives on the line down in the great American southwest."

"Raynor." I nodded towards him, and he scoffed as he took out a canister of presumably alcoholic material and took a deep swig. "How's the liver?"

"Freshly grown and can hardly take a gulp of whisky." He stated with a grimace, pointing at his canister. "Been watering this bottle down for weeks." He waved in dismissal towards me, and I caught the eye of the last person invited to the little meeting.

She was the only one with the resources to afford a larger construction, and with her resources she shifted most of her massive complex underground. Her projectors lined her immense office that could hold the frame modals of every Magus within the same time when needed. She sat on a luxurious chair, behind a mahogany desk a gloved hand steeped against a gauntlet.

Lorelei Barthomeloi's gaze met mine, and she gave the tiniest of nods as I gave my own.

The two of us didn't need introductions.

"Two days ago," I began. "I travelled on a technical with a squadron of heavily armed infantry."

Raynor scoffed and said something about no one knew what heavily armed meant since the cataclysm, but he was swiftly silenced by the European Union's Prime Minister.

"Lady Barthomeloi." I stated when she didn't seem to want to speak, and she gave a nod towards me to continue. "Thank you."

"Our mission objective was to rid the town of a Dead Apostle who had killed the town's entire populations along with the detachment of troops within." I heard a sudden intake of breath, but I saw only steely masks. "The squad garrisoned a building and mounted their four heavy weapons to distract the enemy's main force as I slipped, they killed seventy percent of the force while I engaged the Dead Apostle, and I helped them dispatch the rest when I returned."

"You didn't kill it?" Tohsaka stated incredulously.

"While my mission parameters were to attempt contact for an untiring workforce," I continued undeterred as looks of disgust went through the room, and a chilly rage from the European Minister. "I was unable to kill the beast once it made its intentions known."

"Unable?" Riesbyfe's eyes widened in disbelief. The international force we worked together on a year ago probably giving her a clear view on my skillset. "How are you still alive then?"

"I didn't exactly escape unscathed." I held up my punctured hand before gesturing to my missing arm and scarred face. "The Apostle has managed to create a new body around its brain, it is capable of flight, resistant to explosives and therefore conventional weaponry will not fare well against it, and is able to regenerate it's wounds."

I pulled out the mental diagram I had of the creature, and utilized the excess wire floating through the room. I utilized Prana against the doctor's orders, but I only needed a few units to utilize the wires.

"Reptilian in nature, covered in high density scales and approximately three tons in weight." I worded carefully, to convey the information as efficiently as I could. "Wingspan is three times its length, probably uses magic for lift, since they'd need to be three times that long to keep six thousand pounds flying.

"A dragon." Sion gasped in surprise. "But the resources that would be needed to conceive such a thing-"

"There was no life remaining when we searched the area." I let the wire frame retain its shape for a few moments. "All the bodies we analyzed exhibited some form of cancer due to Cataclysm that made them unwanted sources of material."

Raynor got up, his eyes wide.

"Kid," He looked straight at me, I heard a clank as his bottle hit the floor from across the sea. "The only people in the world that didn't get cancer from that are Magi and anyone lucky enough to be in a shielded building. That only leaves one source for that much flesh."

"Children." I nodded towards the lightly bearded man. "We suspect the apostle induced some sort of forced growth within their bodies, due to the fact only fifty eight children were present at the town, and none are reported missing anywhere else. Hardy enough to manifest that much weight."

The man cursed, pulling out a thick cigar and a lighter. The flame seemed to be drawn to him for a moment, before it licked the cigar and he began to puff angrily against it. He wrung his hands, but went back to sitting down.

"What is the purpose of this meeting then?" Barthomeloi questioned. "Aid? Support? Our hands are tied here in Europe by the expanding lairs of the damned."

I turned around and presented the back of my neck, lifting up the hair that hid the wound from view, from which I had torn into for the tracking chip. The wetness I felt against my fingers told me of the still fresh nature of the wound, since the morphine the doctors of the base had been able to spare dulled it satisfactorily.

"I placed my tracking device onto the beast when I was trapped in its grasp." I turned back around wiping away the blood from my fingers.

"Trapped?" Raynor mused, "Seems pretty unlikely that something that big wouldn't just crush you, kid."

"It couldn't do that if it was flying." Tohaska chimed in, not even taking a look towards the American. Her peerless deductive skills shining through, while the gem she used to supplement her vision actually shined as if a source of light. "But that just leaves another question unanswered."

"The scales on the beast's leg were sharp as well as dense ." I supplied without hesitation. "The beast's incredible strength allowed it to burst through reinforced concrete and 'catch' me on its right leg."

"That must've been an absolute sight to see," The Matou giggled fiendishly, her wire form sauntered past Tohaska until she was right next to me. "Strapped against such a beast." She mused and her form moved to touch where my left arm used to be. "It must've been quite difficult to rip off your own arm Emiya-kun." Numerous strips of shadow flittered around my legs, I was sure they would have been lost if the Matou heiress was actually present.

"It's far easier when you utilize rocket propelled explosives, Matou-san." I stated as I moved from her simulated grasp. I heard a pair of gasps behind me, from Raynor and Sion.

"You fired on yourself with an anti-material shell?!" Sion yelled, her face absolutely livid. Riesbyfe winced minutely, as did the others connected, as her voice translated across the multiple speakers. "Do you know that odds of such a thing working against you?"

"I wouldn't make a habit of that," Raynor stated minimally, wagging a finger from side to side in a universal sign of warning. "The first designs I made on those things were set to explode at first contact. You'll find yourself in pieces if you keep trying that stunt out, kid. Most of the shells circulating are still wired like the first models."

Since I didn't want to give Sion a conniption, I didn't attempt to even explain that the next shell was one of the earlier models.

"Enough." Barthomeloi's voice dominated the conference for the slightest of moments. "I see where you are heading with this Shirou, but I must ask you to hasten the speed of this council immediately." If any of the others had questions on how I was addressed, they didn't voice it. All for the better in all actuality, though, some things were best not approached. "Present us the item that needs to make its way through all corners of the world."

I nodded, and stalked my way over to the case I had brought down with me. I felt their eyes follow my movements, even Matou was utterly paying attention to my actions.

Magic was very odd when it came to spells or Mystic Codes to produce a semblance of oddities into he world. The best explanation would be in the terms of a simple spell designed to manifest a ball of flame to light an opponent on fire. When the spell was utilized by two magi at the same time, it would only have half its power, and would be fractionalized the more attempted to utilize it at the same time. There were no ways to circumvent the oddity, but to create an entirely different spell that sought the same goal.

While most mystical projects were carefully hoarded to retain their basic power, some actions didn't require anything of the sort. Akin to utilizing reinforcement and structural analysis, some spells could be utilized by the small multitude of Magi that traversed and aided the world. Most were hoarded just as much as their former incarnations, but in the same way precious metals were utilized and traded for.

They were trade items, selling knowledge to other countries was an apex route to gaining allies amongst its ranks.

I let the contents of the large case spill onto the floor, and there were shocked gasps all around.

"Necromancy?" Riesbyfe growled. "The church will have none of this forbidden knowledge, Emiya-"

"Nothing of that sort." I interrupted her succinctly, picking up shoulder blade from the spilled pile, "I was able to retrieve information regarding the utilization of bone in forming armor and weaponry" I supplied as I went through the processes of turning the shard of bone into a weapon. "The processes are easily replicated with any form of bone, though cadavers will be our uncountable main source." I presented the knife made from the bone, picking up another and slicing though it with ease.

"Due to the inherent structure of the bone, it can effectively hold a monomolecular edge quite easily." I explained brandishing the knife before slamming it onto the floor, flat side first. "It holds firm against most damage and can be easily made in the heat of battle."

"A good last resort weapon," Barthomeloi mused. "The dead will provide the fortifications necessary to held them back."

"Do you have your head screwed on straight, lady?" Raynor practically burst out in anger. "You're interested in defiling bodies more than they've already been?!" His visage blurred as he stormed across the room and began to band against a wall with one hand and press the other on his earpiece. "Let me out of here, I won't be dealing with thes-"

A few words the auditory channels didn't get picked up, but Raynor's snarl told me all I needed to know. The glare he sent me would've made most men quake, but I didn't even give him the pleasure of seeing us blink.

"I don't see why this such an oddity to you, Raynor." Tohaska stated, her organic hand reaching up to flip hair that didn't exist before she stopped. "As you Americans said when you cannibalized Canada: 'Resources are Resources after all'"

Raynor leveled his glare at her, but her eye glowed ominously back. The wires manifesting his form lost coherence for a few moments, and I faintly remembered his specialties lay in bodily enhancement with lighting. The fact explained the wires attempted to keep his form with energy coursing through his body. Conducive as they may be, I doubted Raynor utilized an amount of electricity that a generator could handle.

He leveled his dark glare to the only member of the Church present.

"What do you have to say about this, lady knight?" His voice was too calm to be anything but utterly furious.

"The amount of bodies that need burial are innumerable." Riesbyfe stated stoically, her eyes not meeting my own as she stood resolutely against Raynor's burning glare. Sion withered behind her, and I offered her a nod she hesitantly returned. The representative of Atlas had nearly no one to interact with her own age, as she was taught by the surviving elders. She had no idea how to interact with others, and she learned utilizing her abilities angered many to the point of hatred. Riesbyfe and I, were quite possibly the few people she trusted, and only because we saved each other's lives dozens of times. "Ashes do not require bone, and neither would they take up space in the catacombs or fall to the hands of evil. This action will allow the dead a semblance of vengeance against the undead."

His eyes glowered and met the Matou heiresses for the briefest of seconds.

She looked back with half lidded eyes before pressing her hand into the inky mass of her body, and procuring a rib as she retracted her hand. The bile that rose form the back of my throat was not because of the action, but the shuddering moan she gave from the act. She twirled it thought the air with a certain joviality, before placing it back from whence it came.

Stormy grey eyes met my own gold, and instead of hatred at me, I saw pity and regret.

"Bloodthirsty Monsters, and Cynical Soldiers." He stated with an air of defeat, letting himself fall onto the bed and pressing the back of one hand against his forehead. "Sometimes, I wish that the world was how it used to be. Pompous little shits are a whole lot better sight as the next generation than this'll ever be."

The oldest of our group gave a long sigh.

"We'll give you Mason tech and that'll be all." He stated with finality.

He didn't say another word as negotiations went on amongst me and my compatriots with the European side of the world. Riesbyfe and Barthomeloi were far harder to push to gain mysteries from, it took a while to get a set of runes from both sides instead of gain in resources. When Sion's turn to deal for Atlas came he left the meeting entirely.

I had the feeling that I would never see him again.

…

I stifled a yawn as the doctor finished in the action of providing me with fresh bandages. The amount of scars I had were more than tripled in my last encounter, the bone proving to be one of the few things that could actually cause them. It joined the list alongside vampire claws and Reinforced blades, the lattermost was thankfully a rare occurrence given the relative unification of most magic users. The difficulty lay in the fact we were not allowed to kill deserters while they wanted to kill us.

A knock came from the door, and the doctor in fatigues and a surgical mask looked up in annoyance towards the door.

My handler was a severe man, his face was never changing due to the training he'd received all his life to become an assassin. The business suit and glasses hid his predatory gait enough that the doctor managed to miss it entirely and deliver him a rant about being bothered while he was working before storming off unmolested.

Kuzuki could have killed him thirteen times in that particular lapse of time, and so could many of the other handlers that worked alongside the other Magi. Superhumanly trained men, they would probably receive the runes that I had managed to acquire from the Church and European Union.

I knew of the danger he presented, and the runes would only amplify that measurement a hundredfold. The man was the epitome of human ability, the crop of thousands of years of Japanese training methods, supplying him and his fellows with the runes would be like having a secondary group of Magi.

Not that Barthomeloi and the Church would ever find that out, I only managed to find out that particular fact out when I had been first practicing Structural Analysis under orders on the men and women in the base.

Kuzuki supplied the rest of the information when I confronted him with an explosive revolved planted against his temple.

I was quite sure that was the closest I had been to ever dying.

"How is your new arm?" He inquired monotonously, as he always did.

I flexed the arm and the fingers of the Myomer thread and composite metal arm. Technology had yet to advance to the point where wires could interpret the brain to such a scale, but Magi had been utilizing thought control for thousands of years. The arm felt like my arm, but I couldn't feel pain from it.

I picked up the bedpan set near the examination bed with the pure white replica of a human arm without skin, and I was thoroughly bemused to find it crumple like tin foil underneath the sheer fingertips.

"It'll take some getting used to." I stated quietly, I knew his ears could pick up heartbeats when he needed it to. "The doctor said something about strength control exercises for the next week will make allow me to optimize it."

Kuzuki said nothing, and I gave a soft sigh as I let myself off the examination bed and reached towards him with my organic hand.

He handed me my next assignment and I raised my hand at the first set of words I managed to find.

"Partner?" I mused, "Do you think they're afraid that they'll lose me just because of the loss of my limb?"

"It is not one of my rights to question the decisions of my employer." Kuzuki stated in his deliberately slow and measured voice. The clipped and tense tone was due to the fact he calculated the amount of breath he needed to actually form the words. Quite frankly I had never heard him ever use a comma.

"What do you think then, from your perspective upon the situation only?" I questioned, memorizing the radio codes and call signs for the mission. Escort duty, the mission seemed to be for the moment. Granted there was string of inexplicable murders going through the town the dignitary was going through, I still found myself thinking the operation wouldn't utilize my skills and my partner's to the extent they should be.

"The government wants you to acclimate to your new limb." Kuzuki simply stated. "The same goes for your partner. The two of you are field testing experimental limbs. The presented environment is controlled to an extent which present no apparent danger."

"Haven't had a slow mission in a while." I acknowledged his conclusion without bothering to read the rest of the file. The rest of the information would undoubtedly detail the local militia as well as the closest army group available for contact. I had no plans to contact either side for something as trivial as a visiting dignitary, having two magi protectors were practically the same security detail as the leaders of entire countries without supplementary support from the armed forces.

Kuzuki stalked out of the room when I handed back the packet, I followed shortly after I found a shirt my size within the clothing cabinets present.

If my memory served me correctly, my partner was somewhere close to the hospital wing of this particular base. Since she was probably receiving an arm like myself, I had very few doubts she wouldn't be in the examination area that the doctor had told me about a few minutes ago.

The stainless, fabricated walls of the base were dull to the extreme and lacked windows to see what was beyond the walls. Windows would be rather redundant when it came to the fact that they be portraying mostly dirt, after all. Many of the world's military bases were now subterranean, though nowhere near the necessary depth to be considered a bunker, underground at ten feet at the very most. The past bases had been exposed to the sky during the cataclysm, and with their high population density, they had suffered as much as any small village did.

The only thing that the unholy fires had not seemingly destroyed in their search for human flesh was metals the density of steel, reinforced concrete, and soil. The latter was the cheapest of the three, and the lightest to utilize as a roof. Some military complexes spanned miles underground now. Underground basements and bulkhead silos housed most of the aviation and mechanized armor that the army still employed.

The navy operated from carved sea cliffs now, the American naval base in Hawaii utilized geothermal power due to their closeness to a cavern of magma. Very few airstrips supported the massive cargo planes that are the suppliers of most armies. The buildings housing them were practically concrete fortresses carved into shape with doors.

I opened the door to a room I detected the traces of magical energy behind, my new hand crushing the doorknob due to my thoughtlessness. The light from the door flooding into the darkened room, allowing me to take stock of the room. The large console, microphone, cheap chairs and the stink of cigarettes suggested the examination room's current usage.

"Hmmm?" I woman looked up from the window she had been observing through. The entirety of her neck swiveled back to face me with ease, the cigarette at Aozaki Touko's face smoldering despite the fact the puppet body she made for herself had no lungs to speak of. The puppet body the woman used to house her consciousness was more like a life sized bearing doll, it was also nearly indestructible by most means available to a normal soldier.

The machine dolls face quirked an eyebrow in an unasked question. The skill of the woman, in crafting her bodies, would've been overshadowed by the fact that her sister was one of the only sorcerers currently living in the planet. The lack in interest in the particular field, compounded with lack of resources, had driven her to the governments hands a few short years into the reclamation of Japan. Many men and women owed her their lives, and quite a few preferred their new limbs to their old ones.

A debate in the senate about making such replacements necessary for all soldiers had been raging for years, though the subject of the matter was different than most would have considered. The more radical parties demanded and army of puppets with loyal soldiers within, and the conservatives pined for simple limb replacement and voluntary body transfers. This debate raged on whilst other countries pined to gain the puppet makers eye.

The woman in front of me didn't mind either way, she lived to progress her work. Making limbs and bodies in return for resources for her own projects was more than an adequate payment for her work in her eyes. Should the time arise, that the Japanese could not meet the resources she demanded, she would most probably ghost away to another country.

Not that many countries could match the Japanese economy, and three out of the four received the limbs as gestures of friendships more often than not.

"Didn't I tell your doctor to let you in here after I was done with my first one?"

"Handler." I supplied in answer to her question, and her quirked eyebrow lessened as she scoffed and turned her head back to a more human position.

She gave a grunt, gesturing to the free sight by her side idly. The motion was too fluid causing the cuff of her white coat to whip through the air. I was convinced that she was acclimating to a new body as well, though the fact she replicated the gesture with perfect grace a moment later let me know she was well into the process.

She pressed a button on the machine before us, leaning towards the mike while brushing aside a strand of hair that she missed in her severe ponytail.

"Go through your usual Kata's for now, Ryougi." She spoke to the microphone with practiced ease, I had the feeling she did this for many of those with their limbs replaced by her creations. "Some dumbass decided choke and mess up the scheduling."

I heard a quiet yes, and the woman turned to me. Her eyes traced the contours of my new arm with hardly hidden contempt.

"See those geeks are still trying to make slapdash jobs for limbs." She stated, I felt something drum over my arm and she snorted. Her hand was already tracing its way up to my new elbow. "Can't even get that electronic nerve system up and running without needing power input from the user. Do they expect every soldier to carry around a car battery just to achieve knockout velocities, or a solar generator to power their Myomer threads to supersede my strength enhancements?"

The red-haired puppet maker kept mumbling until her hand reached my shoulder.

"Well shit." She muttered, her cigarette burning out as she chewed the butt of it ferociously. "Take off your shirt."

"What." I asked plainly, trying to keep my face straight and failing from turning it into the look of horror that it was slowly becoming.

"Did I stutter?" She asked in a way that wasn't actually a question. " I need to see this shit for myself, so either you take off your shirt soldier boy, or I'm ripping it off."

Alright, Emiya, it must not be what you're thinking it will be. There is no way she must be thinking about testing her body on your like so you overhear in the locker rooms.

I took off my shirt with trepidation, she took one look at the runic array on my chest, that connected the arm with my nervous system before snorting again and splashing a cup of what was probably alcoholic onto the array.

The ink slipped off with ease, and before I could ask why I was able to move my new arm the puppet doctor gave a roaring laugh. She even slapped her knee, I wasn't aware that people actually did that.

"Seems like those egg heads got us both kid." She chuckled lightly, tossing me a napkin from one of her pockets. I dabbed the ink away with more than a bit of incredulity. "A magic-less arm, never thought I would see the day." She got out a another cigar, the tip of her finger issuing a flame to light it.

"There's no runic array?" I questioned, my mind struggling to comprehend the new information. Even the woman in front of me, considered the best prosthetic maker in the world, used the simple magecraft to link the nervous system up to the limb. "How is that possible?"

"Beats me, kid." She finished the cigarette in a single, long drag. "But I'm sure if they could mass produce that I'll be out of job pretty soon." She gave another laugh. "But considering the fact that the raw materials used to make that thing costs entire orders of magnitude from how much mine cost…" She giggled in euphoria. "I'm guessing that won't be happening anytime soon."

I inspected the hand for a bit, ignoring the inane comments that came from the woman. I stared from a moment before picking up the glass that held the alcohol that had stripped the ink from my skin. The glass cracked where my fingers met it, she said something about power needs for the arm…

I activated a circuit and reinforced the arm.

One moment, what had been in my arm was glass. The next moment sand was leaking through the crevices of the hand. There wasn't a single shard of glass to be seen anywhere, the remains of the glass were either on the floor, or in my hands.

I felt something touch the arm again.

"I wouldn't sick that hand on anything," The puppet makers stated idly, taking a swing from the bottle she had been mostly using. "The number of fibers in that thing is fifteen times the number of muscle strands in your other arm. I can think of a few things those fibers would be useful for, but I'll let your tiny soldier head have its way with it in the field first."

"The heat of battle-"

"Is the best innovator in the world!" She crowed flinging out her arms, the bottom of the empty bottle flew into the wall while the end remained in her hands. The limb replacer's eyes honed into mine and her smirk became absolutely amused.

She tapped one of the screens on the console, the image enlarging to cover what I previously thought was a darkened window that spanned most of the wall.

Touko pointed at the woman blazing through sword strikes, and the number of cut concrete pillars that surrounded her.

"That girl has an absolute masterpiece of mine for an arm." She leered towards me, "What do you think about testing it out against her?"

"No." I stated as bluntly as I possibly could. "I have not slept in over thirty six hours," I supplied once an inquisitor look passed over her face, the answer transformed it into a disappointed one. "I came here for an query about the arm, and now that that's done…" I rose and picked up my shirt, making sure to not tear through it with my new arm.

She snorted and turned away from me, looking into the console with a rigid expression. I could feel the disappointment rising off her in waves.

Tohaska had told me that all magi used to be like Aozaki, more interested in experiments and tests to advance an individual's magecraft than fighting for the lives of others. I disliked the notion, but she had stated that I would've been the minority in that particular regard.

I had the most intense feeling that the woman was living in the past, like so many other people who lost their entire family in the cataclysm before. There wasn't anyone alive who had not lost a person on the attack situated by the personification of all of humanities' sins.

All in all, I had no rights to judge her since I never had a family myself, while she lost her father mother and sister.

Sometimes, I viewed my amnesia as one of the many walls that kept me from forming relations with others, but I knew that deep, within my consciousness I viewed it as a gift.

One sister could not have done anything to change the course of the world, after all.

I said my goodbyes and left to find rest, the good doctor wholeheartedly ignored me as I left her in her smoke-filled room.

…

The transport helicopter was of an eerie resemblance to one of the old American Surplus helicopters that flooded the world after the disaster. While they were most certainly well-armed and armored, they did not fare well against the rocket propelled heavy weapons that were utilized by brigands to cover their retreats. The heavy weapon emplacements were the main consumer of the ammunition my pistol had utilized, and they were easy to produce given the lack of moving parts. The ammunition was the most sought after commodity in the world, they were the only weapons that were able to be fielded by infantry with credible damage against most, if not all threats, that were in the current eras battlefield. Needless to say, the warlords that prowled un-reclaimed lands and were out of careful reach of naval bombardment, had stockpiles of the vaunted ammunition. Stolen in their many attacks against patrols and outposts, scavenged for every round in old battlegrounds, or secretly acquired through military connections.

Travelling within the flying cart, as it was gloriously compared to, did not sit me well.

"Emiya! Stop gawking at the old lady and get over here!" A hellish growl emanated from the Armory Master of the base, her fatigues decidedly showing off her body in a way I was quite sure was impossible to do without meaning to. "I don't want your stupid luck with equipement running off on Old Lady Gibson before we can get her flying again?"

"That's not our method of transportation?" I inquired, carefully masking my hope as I made my way nest to the busty, blond. Her army jumpsuit was more of an afterthought given the fact I could see the hem of her panties, and most of her abdomen was showing below the tight black tank top.

"Hell no." She spat out the stub that remained of her last nail coffin and placed the one she already lit into her mouth before it hit the ground. "The brass wants the two of you to arrive in style, sending a VTOL from Kyoto up north if I heard right."

I gave a whistle as I followed her in the armory, all the guns seemed as if they were off the factory. This was completely offset by the fact that there was a massive pile of spare parts that her assistants were diligently cataloguing and sequestering to their appropriate boxes and according to their quality.

I also understood why she was near-naked, as her assistants were, a miniaturized smelter that I recognized with a trade meeting from months back was diligently being fed with broken pieces of metal and plastic that was spat out in refined ingots.

"I thought it was supposed to be self cooling." I mused lightly, and the Master of Arms gave me a glare.

"It was!" The man lacking a shirt shoveling the scraps stated with a guffaw. "Up until our resident mage decided she could play Rune master and speed the system up!"

"Shut up, Sohn." The woman beside me growled her face becoming a shade of red I was not aware she was capable of producing.

"It's all for the better, really." A man sorting receivers and judging their quality levied a lewd grin in my direction, "Suzuki forgot about her little mistake and wore a WHITE tank yesterday," He dodged a monkey wrench thrown in direction. "We have picks of our not-so little mage if you want."

He didn't dodge the next wrench, making him wince and move back to his cataloguing.

I raised an eyebrow at her for a moment, before I advanced onto the magical construct without qualm for the heat. I saw the vestiges of her work, and saw the overlap between the cooling runes and her upgrades.

I bit my finger, drawing blood with ease, and applied the corrections needed while making note of the runes she had applied.

The room lowered to a reasonable temperature, and the men gave shouts of relief as Suzuki gave me a sheepish look.

"Where did you acquire the runes?" I inquired, ignoring the fact she had gone against regulation and altered the device. Such things were left to Magi like Touko in best cases and went to the scientists when resources were stretched thin. "They are not within the codex of the ones that our country has acquired, Suzuki-san."

"I was sifting through my old families books." She admitted, "They were returned for me to study, since they were apparently useless, but I found a couple things that were useful."

"Your family specialized in the creation of imperial swords, correct?"

She gave a hesitant nod.

"The seals you applied are designed for ore smelters," I chided her lightly, "To enhance heat and utilize convection at a faster rate, thus manifesting the steel at faster rates." She looked downcast before I clapped her shoulder, giving a start.

"It's a good thing we've just reclaimed a steel factory eh?" I gave her a smile as I traced the runic array, free of my modifications as the massive factory would benefit from higher temperatures unlike this small room. "I'll be sure to send a commendation and report with your name on it while I'm on the VTOL."

She gave a bright smile before punching me lightly on the arm.

"Damn, kid," She muttered as she took a deep, but slow pull. "You had me worried for a moments there." She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, giving me an apologetic grin. "I kinda thought you'd have me court martialed for that."

"I'm pretty sure he was thinking of some other sort of courting!" Sohn quipped and immediately dodged a flung magazine in his direction, as I gave a chuckle.

"We were getting my weapons?" I reminded her lightly, getting another blush as she stalked away with me following. The wolf whistles of her friends following the two of us as we moved through the slowly cooling room and into another.

Thirteen Heavy caliber launchers were lined up on a rack with boxes of their ammunition behind reinforced, blast resistant glass. The safe was never opened for something as simple as an inventory check, the commercial value of a single shell in the black market outstripped most soldiers pay. The boxes were presented open and displayed shell after shell to anyone who viewed within.

A few caught my eye however, as did a particular weapon that dominated the singular gray table that Suzuki placed a gun-metal grey suitcase upon.

I opened the suitcase and retrieved my replacement revolver and tested it's weight, it was much lighter than before. My eyebrow shot up when I looked upon the eight ammunition cylinders that the weapon presented, instead of the old six. Thankfully, the ammunition seemed to be the same, the weapon in my hand seemingly alien to me now.

Seeing my bemused expression, Suzuki took it from my hands gesturing to its black finish.

"It's a new model of the APR," She explained, abbreviating the name of the Armor-Piercing Revolver to its formal designation. "The mark Six utilizes carbon Nano-threads to reinforce structural integrity. The magazine has been reinforced with the same fibers, allowing less material to be present to stop it from exploding and, therefore-"

"More slots for ammunition," I finished appreciatively, I gestured to the under-barrel rail that I had just noticed. "And this is for?"

She pointed at three blocky pieces within the suitcase. I fetched them quickly, setting myself to examining them as she spoke.

"Laser designator." She gestured to the one I had left in the suitcase. I held two in my new hand with ease, but I wasn't too apt on accidently crushing them all if I tried to strain in the third. "Radio connected for target designation."

She plucked out the one that was still in my hand, as I waved the gun experimentally with the sleekest of the three attachments.

Suzuki pressed a button on the block of ebony metal and the side facing the same area as my barrel slid open and produced a set of eight needles. I noticed that there were two sets of the activation button on each side, presumably I could just reach out with a finger to open the machine.

"Injectors?" I asked, eyeing the block apprehensively. A drop of the chemical compound could drop a fully grown man instantaneously, most Magi would go down in a second. The compound dissolved rapidly against the atmosphere, so a melee application was required. If the eight needles so much as brushed against a man's skin he would be sleeping the next second.

"The inside is filled with the sleeper agent." She tapped the black as she pressed both buttons at the same time, making the needles withdraw with less noise than sheathing a knife. "Enough to last for four years the eggheads reckon, three if you're feisty with it though."

"And this?" I gestured with my palm towards the one currently around the barrel of my newest piece of equipment.

"Magnetic Accelerator Unit." She recited as if from reading from a page. "It will accelerate your bullets to speeds that will make altitude drop and wind resistance a thing of the past until you try to hit something beyond three miles."

I blinked, rapidly.

"No, seriously." I managed after a few seconds of blinking, the master of arms gave a chuckle.

"It was a joint project between all the nations." She explained, I didn't point out the fact that all nations would mean some secessionist holdouts that spanned large amounts of the globe, she most certainly meant the acknowledged nations of Europe, the Americas and the coalition of Pacific islands that Japan was a part of. "Shared technology, instead of magic for once."

"I'm still having a bit of trouble believing you." I admitted.

Suzuki rolled her eyes and crossed her arms underneath her tank.

"You can fire only around eight shots before it'll need to recharge." She explained. "Recharge will require access to a large amount of energy in a short amount of time, or three hours outside of the mechanism and in contact with the traces of H2O in the atmosphere."

"Recharge?" I asked out load twisting the gun around to search the body of the weapon's attachment. "This is powered by a battery?"

She reached for the gun and I handed it to her deftly, she pressed against the machine's 'back' and withdrew a cylindrical power cell. Suzuki fetched a cord that I had thought was a strap for the gun, attached it to the base and tossed it to me.

"Mind it carefully," She stated as I snatched it from the sky and examined it. "Each one of your 'batteries' costs around six hundred thousand yen to make."

I blanched at what at the end of the necklace. Yen was still far behind the dollar, but it was closer to a ten to one ratio nowadays.

Quite technically I held in my hands a sixty thousand dollar battery at the end of some reinforced thread.

I placed the piece around my neck, very, very carefully.

"This isn't for small arms." I noted and she gave a nod. This was far too expensive to field, given the relative lack of resources, outfitting the entire army with these would give us a wonderful edge, but would be downright impossible.

"Larger capacitors are used for the tank modifications that are coming in, but it's basically the same beast for the tanks as well." She gained a thoughtful look. "Though the tanks won't need to recharge since they have electric turbines, they'll just have to watch out for overheat."

"Those'll make for quite the crowd stopper." I mused, pondering the effects of high explosive shells with so much range and firepower behind them. The army would probably stop producing long range artillery if that were the honest case.

Suzuki gave a huff, obviously not interested in pursuing a conversation. She reached for the either side of the briefcase and produced a thin material that I did not recognize. The master of arms threw it at me, and I was surprised at its apparent weight as it flew through they sky instead of catching air and stopping cold.

"That'll replace your ceramic vest." The armory master stated and I gave her an incredulous look. "It'll stop most small arms fire and is insulated against heat and frost."

My look of incredulity faded as Structural Analysis gave me a deeper insight of the object.

"Tungsten tubes wrapped in Carbon Nano-thread?" I stated incredulously, the disbelief of the protective value of what appeared to be long-sleeved black shirt threaded by silver. I noted one of the sleeves was missing, but the similarly colored face-cover I glimpsed told me it must have been scavenged when they heard of my injury. I wouldn't say no to a covering that would protect my face from bullets, that was assured. "This must have cost a fortune."

"The brass wants to keep you safe." Suzuki mused. "It won't stop kinetic energy from going through though, nothing to slow it down you understand?"

"Reinforcement will deal with that." I admitted as I studied the silver lines, they ran along the shoulders and the abdomen in an intricate design. The web had thicker strands of Carbon, and I could only imagine it would be nice against a set of claws or attacks that went from side to side. The webbing would most definitely be useless against piercing attacks, due to the expanse it covered, but the nature of the attack would be countered by the shirt with ease.

I was slightly excited to utilize it in combat.

"If you're done making love to your shirt," Suzuki stated with an upturned smirk, interrupting me from my thorough examination of the armor. "We still have this last piece of equipment to discuss."

I gave the slightest of frowns as I ran my eyes over the piece of hardware that dominated the table.

The cannon's barrel was fitted for specialized anti material shells. To be exact, they were remade for the purposes of penetration and further travel. The shell the cannon fired were twice the length of its smaller brethren, sporting more fuel and a much longer tip. They were housed in SABOT casings that made the most of the four and a half foot long barrel's rifling. The grooves upon each shell would translate the centrifugal force, and the deploying fins would act as the guidance correctors.

To be perfectly frank, the Anti-material Infantry Cannon was better off on APC's. I could only hazard as to why one that was still configured for infantry use.

The last time I attempted to fire one it broke my left arm-

Which wasn't necessarily human anymore.

I hefted the thirty pound weapon without so much as a grunt with my new arm, drawing an odd look from the woman in charge of the weapons. I picked up one of the canisters that housed the shells and broke open the weapon to place the ammunition within.

"Target range?" I asked and Suzuki rolled her eyes as she jammed her hand to the door we didn't enter in. The gun was hard to bring into the room, since any way of conventionally holding it proved impossible due to the door's small width and height.

The targets were set for their maximum range of eight hundred fifty meters, the effective range of the fully automatic launchers for normal humans. Utilizing the heavy weapon platforms and getting a small spread at eight hundred fifty meters was quite the feet was quite the skilled man.

Most Magi could manage double that, and the weapon I held with my new arm had an effective range of twice what Magi could manage in the hands of a human. It wasn't a matter of testing the weapon, it would be an anomaly for the shot to miss, the test was for my newer arm.

I took my position, spreading my legs apart, hefting the cannon against my new arm and laying the barrel over my steady right arm. I reinforced myself as much as I could, the mechanical arm seemingly gulping down the energy without hesitation as I made sure to make it so my muscles would brace me for the impact.

"You're going to fire that standing?" Suzuki stated incredulously, securing earmuffs around her head.

I lined the target with my crosshairs, and fired.

The shell made contact and disintegrated the target before I felt the recoil.

The recoil was as tough as I remembered, the amount of force was equal to that time I took an nose dive in a jet, without the seat behind me. The recoil of the gun was unparalleled, the APC's that sport them bounce on their axles after a shot.

The mechanical arm didn't even budge, even though the rest of my body had enough force transferred to it that I was nearly thrown back. I was able to correct myself with relative ease, no limbs broken, quite surprisingly.

Suzuki summed up my thoughts rather nicely on the subject.

"Holy shit."

…


	4. Chapter 4

The War

…

Disclaimer: I do not make monetary gain form this.

…

Chapter 3: Prologue

…

America was not as Kiritsugu had remembered.

As was common amongst even the nation's enemies, the country had been respected. The people of the country had proven, over and over, that they were the dominant superpower of the world. Yet at the same moment they did so through military intervention, cultural immensity, and foreign aid, not through sheer military dominance.

The culture was gone, the wealth gobbled up in the production of entire subterranean cities in the heart land, untouched by the cataclysm. Thanks to the immensity of undeveloped and uninhabited land within the new core of the United States, the country was lumbering haphazardly onto the immense industrial foundation the culture it had left behind had developed.

Atop the Militarized Space Needle , in what used to be Seattle, Washington, Kiritsugu Emiya felt the four M777A3 Howitzers, that had been placed atop the newly dubbed, prototype Liberty Tower, fire at the frontline at the Fifteenth North Avenue Bridge. The effective range of the Howitzers had been a five thousand square kilometers with their advanced shells, but the sudden need for fixed defensive perimeters led to the decision to apply to rifling process to the smoothbore artillery and have them double as anti-aircraft cannons.

The proximity shells exploded upon the retreating Canadian Nationalist forces, the mass of transports hit with GPS-guided M982AA(Anti-Air) one-hundred-forty-four millimeter Excalibur shell travelling and exploding at the most effective proximities. The names of the shells brought a grim look to Kiritsugu's face as he analyzed the radio signals, but most did not notice.

Though one certainly did.

"Were my calculations incorrect?" Sion inquired quietly, so quietly that his son, his only other student, did not notice.

"They were fine," Kiritsugu offered the girl a weary smile, though he winced at the pain from the curse he had been afflicted. Despite the fact he had managed to keep contact with the now-defunct Magus society, no cure was in sight. Shirou was fourteen now, however, and Kiritsugu knew well enough that without the medicine and spell provided onto him he would've died years ago. "One hundred twenty percent more casualties than the original firing trajectory had analyzed. Good job."

The girl soaked up the praise like a sponge and Kiritsugu felt the slightest bit of guilt as she made her way to Shirou with a hop on her step. His plan had worked to a much greater extent than he had originally predicted, the girl had declined an offer to return to her country to continue to study underneath him with Shirou. Kiritsugu knew well enough her real reasons, but he didn't voice it aloud, and he had no reason to complain due to her proficiency with firearms.

"So you're a Master?" The technician in charge of the firing base inquired in English next to him, dirtied glasses and unkempt hair telling of the time the man spent in the tower. The eleven man staff of the tower could hardly manage, so Kiritsugu was told and with the strategic point provided by the tower.

"I am." Kiritsugu responded simply, allowing the simple title assigned to those who took those that were chosen to train the students of many classes as he had from all over the world.

"Never thought you'd all seem so normal." The man stated simply, "Higher ups don't fret about telling us normal army corps about how awe-inspiring you all are." He scratched the stubble growing on his neck. "Expected you all to be bonafide, arrogant pricks to be honest."

"Not a far off assumption." Kiritsugu supplied as he returned his gaze to the battle front scanners, the thumps of another salvo telling quickly followed by the loss of more radio signals. "Most magi are of such description." Kiritsugu noted the distance of the remains of the retreating army and touched his receiver. "Return to the command post, Sable-1, Sable-2" He addressed his charges in English to maintain some decorum in the conversation, but supplied their code-names instead of their real names.

The man beside him gave a sigh, before reaching for the noise cancellation equipment he had been assigned.

"16 inch guns they said." The man growled to himself. "It would be incredible to have rotary artillery on top of a tower they said." He popped on ear buds, before strapping on the padded headgear. "They never fucking though about the people working under them, fuck…"

Kiritsugu placed his own noise-cancellers after he attended to his charges, he noticed the man brace one arm and copied his movement, quickly followed by his tow charges.

Kiritsugu had time to note that Sion utilized the odd method of clutching onto Shirou instead of the offered handrails around the command terminal before his companion pressed the button.

The turrent at the very top of the tower was refurbished from an Iowa class battleship and took no less than six helicopters to lift onto the structurally sound Sears tower. The Sixteen inch guns on the turret had a three hundred, sixty degrees firing arc and utilized the largest shells Kiritsugu Emiya had ever seen.

Three, two thousand seven hundred pound, super-heavy shells fired at the same time from the turret, the jolt on the tower from the blast made Kiritsugu feel a semblance of fear for the building's structural integrity for the slightest of moments. The shells were high-explosive, and proximity based upgraded only a marginal amount with better fuses for said proximity settings. The guns had ripped apart the islands of Japan years ago, and they were now firing upon American soil.

American Airspace, Kiritsugu noted as he watched the remaining air fleet disappear from the radar. The spent casings of the turrent were quickly ejected and fell to their level, quickly falling onto a conveyer belt, for processing and rearmament. Unlike the Excalibur rounds for the four smaller cannons, the rounds for the four hundred and six millimeter cannons were built in mind for the second world war and discounted international aid. The rounds were easily made in the simplest of factories.

Which was why the Americans were building them around a wall in the middle of their country, within the largest defense perimeter ever bound to be constructed. The coasts were going to be defended by a tower every four dozen miles, the second layer of defensive power. The most outermost layer was the largest standing navy in the world, carefully being re-emboldened by those who wanted to escape the scorched earth. The tertiary defense grid that the American's cooked up stated a simple key fact: no matter how hard you think it's been, you're going to face sixteen-hundred of these emplacements before you get to our citizens.

They were afraid and the entire world didn't know how to react, there was no place to attack with force so they were turtling up. The largest military spender in the world the last fifty years is no longer maintaining foreign bases, no longer influencing the world, and were building a defense grid that would make the great wall of China look like a play-dough monument.

Rapid beeping sounded within the room, only in the range of Kiritsugu's hearing due to his removed noise-cancellers, his eyes quickly picked up the large number of missiles streaking against the cloudy, gray sky and the numerous signals his radio scanner picked up.

No one moved within the building, and Kiritsugu wondered why nothing was happening.

Kiritsugu eyes met with the technician beside him, and he was only offered a small chuckle before he was gestured towards a screen off to the man's side.

"HYDRA?" Kiritsugu inquired quietly, his mind running through the weapon systems and finding himself short of the one he was being gestured to. "A missile scrambler of some sort?" Kiritsugu hazarded a guess, and the scrambler system would allow for the calm that the man excluded.

"Of a sort." The man chuckled before tapping the screen of the system. A green scanner showed, akin to his own radar scanner, but at the center was not the usual dot. The screen split into four different scanners, each with a similar odd center. Kiritsugu raised a brow when he realized that the objects in question were below the four smaller cannons. "HYDRA's a point defense system."

The name rang within his mind, but the black-clad man was unable to scrounge up similarities to compare the term towards.

"You've managed to create a computing algorithm good enough to utilize a point defense system?" Sion exclaimed suddenly, startling the four people present within the control room. "Projections of such a project were estimated to come into completion four years from now! How could this possibly be?"

"Well, girly." The technician pushed up his glasses a small smile forming on his lips. "You've got to take into account the fact that our forces were on the front against terrorist groups for a very long time. We've been piling money on this project since the eighties and the prototype came out just two years ago." He inched up an eyebrow, "Did you think we were going to set up massive towers like these without an anti-missile defense system?"

Kiritsugu raised his own eyebrow, catching the sight of his son who only offered a shrug in return.

"Care to explain what this is all about, Sable-2?" Kiritsugu inquired as the girl fretted over the HYDRA's interface, near a very bemused technician.

The girl went rigid at the sound of his voice.

"No need to apologize." Kiritsugu interrupted the tide before it could gather momentum. "just explain."

"A point defense system is essentially a system that tracks missiles and intercepts them with a large volume of fire." Sion explained with rapt fascination towards the encroaching storm of missiles. "They've been built seen the 80's but they've never been fielded in stationary positions and such small numbers due to the sheer volume of missiles an army can field, even with multiple gun emplacements present." The missiles seemingly began to explode meters away from the tower, Kiritsugu noted it occurred whenever the missile breached the scanners provided by the HYDRA system. "This system must incorporate quite the software to accomplish such a feat."

"Studies we'd acquired from our own magi Sector, helped with that." The man explained. "We put their experience of Bounded Fields to use in programming the defense system, and their expertise in mystic codes allowed us some more in depth planning behind inscribing smaller transistors onto near molecular level."

"So the calculations and sensors are years beyond their time!" Sion exclaimed in excitement. "The height elevation and the under-platform mounting will also allow it to cover the ground with ease! Effectively making the chance of even a large-scale missile spread's success less than one percent!"

"Quite the accomplishment." Kiritsugu stated and the technician offered a nod in return. "A very round-about way use of your nation's magi-sector, but effective nonetheless." His eyes made contact with the technicians. "So I believe that this system will be sold to allied powers soon enough?"

"Of course! We're not going to leave you out in the dust!" the man exclaimed with a nod, and Kiritsugu just gave a terse nod in reply. The lower wage earners of the army were usually free to speak of what they wished, but duplicity had never been an American trait to begin with. The higher echelons may not think along the same lines, but there was hardly any matter of knowing who was friends and enemies with the American people

Considering the facts laid out, the plans for the Liberty Wall, the rearmament of the vast mothball naval and aviation fleet, the untouched nuclear silo's still in the heartland of America, and the massive cities being built underneath the soil, Kiritsugu Emiya let out a sigh of relief for the first time in a very long time.

At the very least, Humanity will not die from the catastrophe he had caused.

…

Protection detail was much easier when done in a group, but it was never exciting to say the least. On a normal protection detail, I would most likely utilize the same room as the one I was guarding, but in cases where I had a partner I almost always had the range advantage and held a the stake-out position on top of the roof.

The position was nearly always boring, even the view over the dozens of skyscrapers got old quickly, despite the majestic architecture from the times before they exemplified. Kyoto was one of the few cities that were kept by the Japanese government, along with Edo and Tokyo, in the interest of keeping some past culture alive.

The Embassy at which we resided towered a clear three stories above any other building, the line of sight it offered gave me clear shot all the way the way to the walls that surrounded the city and kept the wastes out. Despite the clear advantage of the building, it did not offer a stocked sniper's nest due to its value as a diplomatic building. Even the Anti-Material Rifle and the boxes of ammunition I was using to scope the area had to have been procured from the armory of the city.

The weapon wasn't nearly as good as the Anti-Armor Cannon I was now able to utilize, and it's maximum range was just shy of a mile on the best conditions. Against most targets it would still be overkill, especially when considering the volume of ammunition that was available.

The food was good though, I haven't had seared meat in a long time and the chefs within had done an excellent job in making a meal according to the strict diets that we were expected to follow. Most of the food I ate were ration-bars and the odd can off heated bean-curd soup, and I was more than a fair amount interested in how to cook. Though my profession will probably never allow it, I would be more than happy to work in a kitchen in the future.

A bright flash of light caught my gaze on one of the other sky-scarpers below, and I leveled my weapon from my crook on the radio tower. The scope upon the gun was a camera that did not precisely zoom in, rather it brought the area of interest closer. The camera also recorded each shot fired, and was the only reason I was allowed on the top of the embassy with a weapon in hand.

Incorrigible proof in action against a threat was a lot easier to prove with a recording at hand.

I blinked rapidly when I saw the sight however, and touched the transponder hooked up to my filtration unit.

"Yes, Sir?" The head of security chimed in without a second of wait.

"Check the feed from my gun, Lieutenant Yamani " I ordered crisply, keeping the gun leveled at the ethereal form of a woman surrounded by dozens of similar butterflies. Amidst the sea of light I saw a dark, and slowly moving shadow within. "Verify that I am seeing what I believe I am seeing."

"Some sort of apparition, Sir?" The apprehension behind the lieutenants voice was more than enough to verify my thoughts on the matter. "Is it a threat, Sir?"

I narrowed my eyes behind the visor, zooming into the shadow amidst the light. The center of the darkness was a man slowly slouching to the edge of the building. My hands gripped the rifle, and I had to remind myself to not crush the barrel with my new prosthetic. The man teetered on the edge of the rooftop and the ethereal apparition placed its hands upon the man's back.

I loosed a shot the bullet passing through the apparition's 'head' before the sound would reach. It paid no mind at all, the bullet striking into the rooftop of the building, and pushed the man.

"I believe that we have found the mysterious killer of this town." I stated lightly as I followed the man's descent with my scope, grimly following the tumult and zooming into the man's face.

The man was middle-aged, wearing only a bathrobe but I focused onto his eyes, only managing the much needed glimpse when the man's face began to crater against the street.

The man's eyes were hazy, and unfocused, yet bloodshot at the same time. I had seen the veins throbbing on his temple. I lowered the scope as I heard the retching of Yamani on my transceiver.

It was as I feared, I placed my hand on my receiver once more, accessing the entirety of the radio networks available to me.

"Code Indigo." I reported simply, "Magus Threat has been verified, all military and civilian personnel advised to wear shielded helmets and polarized visors for the time being." I allowed the verification to come in, following the squabbling on the radio with practiced ease, transferring to the channel that was secured for only me and my partner.

"Did you hear all that, Clear Eyes?" I inquired as I verified my location and accessed the boundary field set up around the Embassy by Atlas Union. It noted no sort of energy fluctuations under its hypersensitive array, so I had nothing to fear about the safety of my protectorate

"Hunt?" She inquired softly, and I heard the excitement underneath her breath easily. I knew well enough of how my partner rose through the ranks, and of the bloody trail she left behind. Matou Sakura was the only person in the corps that had more verified kills to her name, and the lady of shadow lagged behind Clear Eyes' confirmed magus kills.

My partner was the deadliest of the corps, without question her ability to kill was unparalleled the only threats against her existence were… Covered by me and the otherworldly aspects that the training my father gave me was useless was covered by her in return.

Huh… odd.

I switched back to my command channel.

"As per military doctrine, I am taking command of the armed forces of this city for the time being." I stated, "All squads must be present and accounted for at each of their designated rapid deployment zones, I want an artillery crew manning one of the FH-70 and rotating it for city coverage. All commanding officers are now to report to me, and give me status reports every quarter of an hour. Timetable synchronization incoming."

I checked my watch as I heard the list of affirmatives through the channels. The yelling of commanding officers, stamping boots, and the grinding of the artillery adjusters common to me. The use of artillery was more than slightly overbearing, and could cause casualties, but the army doctrine regarding rogue magi was written in stone as far officials were concerned.

Maximum potential, least amount of force. There were plenty of ways to rehabilitate even the most stringent of the rebel magi, and the effectiveness of a trained Magus was phenomenal in the right hands. The projected value of a trained magic-inclined operative was easily more than a warship or a strategic bomber, easily equaling the worth of an intercontinental thermonuclear ICBM.

So taking the magus alive was most certainly the highest priority, and the objective didn't conflict with my own even though a civilian may end up being harmed. The potential number of lives that a magus could save was far more than that of several innocents.

"Synchronize on zero-three-hundred-fifteen on my mark."

"Mark."

…

I listened to the radio intently as my partner chimed in her own reports, the security center within the military complex in the heart of the city allowing me to make the most of my operations skills. Sion and I had most certainly been trained by my father in mind towards leading others, and how to handle normal humans. The purple-haired alchemist and I were the most-well known Magi that were viewed in a positive light, only Lady Barthomeloi could compete if she actually took time to attend the Public addresses the Clock Tower had been utilizing to address the society as a whole. The terrifyingly strong woman was most certainly had the most well-known picture, as was her standing for most of the public addresses.

The strategic command center was connected to a satellite in synchronized orbit around the world, and gave me a clear view of the city as it was to do for the commanding officer in the face of a siege. The complexity and cost of the system was prohibitive, probably a deciding factor in the choice of only reclaiming three cities upon Japanese soil. The underground cities were able to use a multitude of echolocation devices to provide a clear picture of the entirety of the city, much more cost effective, especially when considering the specialized equipment each soldier had to have in order to show on the map.

"Commander," Yamani was a well-known figure in the local society and was apparently well versed in working with Magi. The young-looking man with graying hair had apparently been part of the first operations spearheaded by Magi operatives little more than four years ago. Despite the courteous demeanor I was approached with by the commanding officers, my employment of his services led to much smoother relations, quickly. "Squads Sigma through Omega have finished their sweep and clears. Alpha through Omega are now free to act under your orders."

"More clears?" I muttered underneath my breath, my mind reminded me they had been checking the ammunition storage bunkers by the walls. "That gives us a city without any hostiles, Lieutenant." I called to him, and I saw him grimace. "What are your suggestions on this matter?" I inquired.

"Place the teams on watch and have the transports ready for transport, sir." Yamani stated crisply and with a short dip of his head. "Rotary basis of course, give half the men some sleep, they have been working through the night after all."

"Ah, yes, sleep." I stated out loud, so dumbfounded I was of my own idiocy. "I knew I had forgotten something." I tapped the icons and accessed the signals of the squads with the simple gestures. "Alpha through Delta are to stand by for quick response, all other squads are to be on reprieve. Switch to next squad every four hours until Code Indigo is lifted."

I received confirmation of my orders and addressed the bevy of commanding officers attending secondary, and even tertiary, consoles behind me.

"All of you go to rest as well," I addressed them crisply, brokering no argument from my tone. I noted the clock was more than sixteen hours from my first mark, and that they were most likely running on fumes. "Return and reprieve me at zero-six-hundred."

Yamani eyed me with a raised brow.

"You've been operating for the last twenty three hours, commander." The lieutenant stated, and I only gave him a nod before switching the outline of the city to the monitored sewage pipes that ran below the city. None of the sentry turrets reported any disturbances, much to my ire, it was quite easy to incapacitate enemies within the tunnels given the gas canisters ever ten or so feat housed within it.

"I am still at optimal levels." I stated dispassionately, taking a sip of coffee through an induction port. "And I will be for at least another thirty six, my next estimated sleeping period is well within that period of time."

The lieutenant appeared as though he wanted to protest, but decided against it, he left the bunker and left me alone within the command structure.

The man had only managed to close the door when I let my face hit the command table. I made sure to turn off my transceiver before emitting the groan that I had been withholding ever since the head ache I had formed over three hours ago.

I heard a dry chuckle over the transceiver anyway, and I suppressed a curse as I remembered that Clear Eyes' connection didn't cut off unless she agreed to it.

"I'd like to see you command an army and not get a blistering headache." I stated simply, finding her signal and isolating it while highlighting it in a red tint. I found it fitting given her ability for getting herself covered in blood.

"I'm not a people person, and I've made sure that's a well-known fact." The swordswoman stated crisply, I accessed the camera closest to her and rotated it until the machine was facing her. I made sure to loop the last picture it had acquired and deleted the rest, signaling my fellow magus by rotating the camera up and down. "If you'd had a pair you'd have said no to your dad and kept up with me and Unzen, you'd always had the best Kata's out of all of us."

"If I didn't follow up on this, who'd be left to keep you on the straight and narrow?" I snarked, giving a small snort of derision, as I acquired a bottle of aspirin form the cabinet located underneath the holographic table. I dropped them onto the coffee and made myself content to wait. "What's this all about having a new masterpiece of an arm?" I inquired a moment of silence.

"Aozaki apparently went all out when she found out she got a magus as a patient." She gave a huff, "Strapped me to a table for hours and prodded me for the better part of it." The swordswoman seemed to pause for a moment. "Probably the reason why you got that mish-mash of tech instead of a prosthetic."

"Feeling sorry, Ryougi?" I addressed her with a smirk, not even caring about the possible pain I'll suffer later for addressing her by her family name. The woman with the ability to kill everything was far more content to be spoken toward by her first name, or call-sign. She detested her family for some reason I was unable to understand.

"You wish, Poster boy." I saw her smirk when she used the same term Rin had used. While it was true, was certainly not preferential towards the term as it was considered a joke by all my fellows. "I'm just worried that you'll crush the flight stick of a plane and kill yourself, given the difficulty you've had flying helicopters before that arm, I'm not sure that they should let you near them anymore."

I was about to protest when a magical signature pinged on my map, I shook the camera side to side twice before cutting the loop I had set. I immediately linked up to the four squads that were still present and ordered them onto their transports, before turning back my attention to Ryougi with both our transceivers recording and ready.

"Got a hit?" She inquired in her usual business tone, she wasn't too keen on mixing conversation with the mission at hand. Until the entire corps managed to convince the brass on allowing us the ability to deactivate the recording devices within our helmets, she hardly spoke at all. She even stopped addressing herself as 'Ore' when they were on, referring to herself as 'Watashi'.

"Three blocks from your position, Clear Eyes." I stated as I switched to my own business mode, I gulped down the coffee and hoped it worked quickly. "I will not be able to support as I have sent most of the command squad to rest after the extended period of time I had put them through. I have sent four squadrons of soldiers to back you up, please turn on your camera helmet and proceed with caution towards the building three blocks ahead and a street to your left."

"Acknowledged." She stated crisply and I immediately linked the new signal to my interface. My eyes narrowed when I managed to catch a glimpse of the building, luminescent as it was swarming with butterflies against the darkness of night. "The building seems to be the hospital."

"Look for a woman." I advised, "That was what the magus had last appeared as."

The vision swiveled surgically over the building, going over all the windows in the process. My grip on the table tightened when I saw fists slamming against them, and bodies tumbling out of the few windows that were open.

"I have sighted the target." Came the cold reply and I paid attention to the center of the screen.

Then I saw a butterfly and heard a grunt.

"Clear Eyes?" I inquired after a moment of waiting, the camera began to shake rapidly. "Respond Clear Eyes."

"Call back the reinforcements." Came a biting reply, and I immediately did so, keeping an eyes of the camera. The device gave the view of my fellow operative gripping her spasming arm, with an iron grip. I was aware of the fact that most of Ryougi's circuits powered her eyes and the augmentation to her reflexes were minimal at best. "The apparition is a ghost, has managed to possess my prosthetic arm."

"Which arm?" I inquired after a moment of thought, the same train of thought that had crossed my own must have caught hers as well. The camera caught her letting go, and the prosthetic lounging for the camera, before it was summarily executed by Ryougi's blade.

I verified my options, the risks, and the rewards that came from it. I distanced myself from the hospital windows slowly tinting red, the piles of bodies around the structure, and the luminous call of the butterflies. I placed myself in charge of a single individual that was worth so many more lives than what could possibly be within that hospital.

For once I was glad to have taken a shot on pure reflex, if I had not known that ballistic weaponry would not affect the apparent ghost I would have called in an artillery strike.

"Retreat, Clear Eyes." I stated, "And make sure to grab your limb." I added after a moment of thought. "This Magus is far more deadly than we have foreseen."

I heard her affirmative and settled into commanding the rest of the forces under my command. My mind went a whirl on the numerous aspects of ghosts that had been drummed into my mind on that mandatory expo most magi had attended in the host city of New Orleans. Granted I spent most of my time making sure my fellow Japanese Magi were staying on schedule rather than exploring the town, I had still managed to memorize the hostile types of ghosts.

Poltergeists were the most common, usually no more than robs of energy willed into being by leftover-emotions of repressed magic users. They were simple to dispel, simply needing a ritual in which was held by one of sufficient belief and will, not even requiring a magus. The most dangerous poltergeist recorded was said to have toppled a cabinet of cutlery onto the new owner of its home, far from the massacre that I had seen.

Spectral Apparitions were far closer to the massacre that I was witnessing. They were the spirits of powerful magi, generally well-practiced in the pursuit of the materialization of the soul. Most had decades of experience, but many more died young due to the sordid chances of insanity that came with leaving your own body as only your soul. On the brink of madness they were more than able to possess the common human, and even the odd object, especially when concerned upon the mystical. Experienced exorcists of the spiritual entities were high in demand, and their secretive practices sought out by every nation, their methods the only proven way to erase the creatures.

The apparition was neither one, however. I had been in the presence of both, and both kind acted upon relentless fury instead of obviously pre-mediated methods.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and taking stock of the situation.

The apparition was obviously being controlled by a human, as the extreme action it had executed upon being discovered changed from the serial killings that had been occurring throughout the months within the town. The objective of the apparition was unknown, the list of victims were all of the civilian population and almost always left behind mourners-

I paused, quickly taking the victims file.

Each and every one of them worked in the hospital in some way or form. Nurse, Janitor, Nurse, Guard, each one found with wallet in hand and family picture within allowing them easy identification. They had all worked at the hospital now experiencing a massive slaughter within its walls.

That was the link, I had been to focused on looking for something other killers went for just had everyone else. It wasn't about ethnicity, occupation, gender or even age, it was where they spent most of their time working. The killer's methods were clear now, and the location of the occupation was obvious given the fact that I had access to the knowledge of when the attacks began.

I accessed the city-computer once more, accessing the files from the cloud storage devices that the hospital used. I utilized and authorized the access of private patient files with my emergency powers, and searched for the patients that had been present in the hospital for more than seven months.

Four subjects: three elderly and were nearing the deadline for the families decisions.

Then there was the clincher.

Kirie Fujou, twenty-seven, and had been transported from hospital to hospital for the past ten years due to her terminal illness. She was from a line of demon-hunters that had supposedly been all killed before she had been found, the government was ecstatic at finding a supposed exorcist of Japanese lineage and had been keeping her alive and mobile since she was seventeen.

The woman was a well-known secret, given her linage and the fact that she continued to refuse to give up her knowledge to the government.

I went about my work with renewed confidence, compiling the evidence into a singular folder.

Someone entered the door and I was unsurprised find Yamani present and nearly breathless, he was hunched over and wheezing, undoubtedly coming running the minute he heard of the incident. I went to him, leaving the command chair and setting the data to compile, along with the observations I had typed up. Despite the massacre the woman was committing there was still the fact that she was a resource, I could not execute her with the chance of finally blowing past political red-tape and ultimately allowing the intelligence division their hands on her.

I helped the man up as he steadied his breath.

"Thank you, commander." Yamani stated simply as I helped him onto a chair. "I came running the moment I heard, I've been neglecting my physicality too much it seems." He took a deep breath, as I stood by his eyes shifted to the command chair. "I came as soon as I heard about the attack, to help you without command details."

"My command on this project is over now," I stated with a simple dip of my head. "There is no need to address me as commander anymore, Lieutenant."

"They relieved you of your duty?" The man questioned incredulously his eyes widening and I gave a small chuckle.

"Nothing of that sort." I answered, turning back towards the command chair. The data was undoubtedly "I have found the culprit of the murders, and am compiling data right now to send to high command-"

A familiar force hit me in the back of the head, and I shifted away while immediately reinforcing my body. Another shot quickly followed hitting the side of my head and my mask fell off, transceiver sparkling faintly as a mass of scrap.

I formed a knife between my fingers, a simple throwing knife made entirely of metal, and threw it at Yamani. The meaty sound of the knife and the suddenly wet gasps quickly assuaging me that it hit where I had aimed.

My head rang and I touched the back of it with my new arm, the mechanical fingers came away bloody, as I approached the slumped betrayer still attempting to raise his gun.

I stabbed that one into the ground, eliciting a pained, wet groan from the man. I took the glove off his free hand and peeled away the false patch of skin.

A winged snake consuming its own tail, the cult of the Secessionist forces, the Subete no Shohi or the All Consuming as they were known to the populace. I didn't bother asking for a name, or reason as I looked into the man's eyes. I saw only hatred within.

This town was compromised and I heard footsteps already stamping through the hallways outside. My mind immediately went to my partner and the fact that I had sent her towards a military outpost of whose loyalty I was not sure of. I toppled a metal shelf in front of the door and acquired one of the masks that spilled. The door banged in an attempt to be opened, and bullets immediately began to thud against the solid steel.

I went to the command terminal and pried the hard-drive from the guts of the machine, stuffing it into a pocket grafted onto my cloak. I checked the my transceiver and ruined mask, finding the protected clearance chip to be safe within its bulletproof casing. I thanked all the luck in the world and plugged it into my new transceiver, only on the setting to Ryougi.

I saw an extendable video-camera jam through the crack the shelf permitted, I fired the side-arm I acquired from the cultist and shot the head off. I heard calls for high explosives, and grimaced.

"The town is compromised!" I yelled immediately after Ryougi's confirmation. "All military units will be considered hostile for the time being! Get out of here!"

"Where?" My fellow asked in incredulously.

"The walls." I instructed, "The launching bays for the helicopters are there, as well as the ones for vehicles. Stay hidden and do not engage." I warned her before cutting off the channel and tearing off the clearance chip, crushing it underneath my boot.

Trace On.

The structural integrity of the building came to me in a simple manner, I saw all the walls and floors of the building within my minds eyes. Most importantly, however, I was able to see all the men connected to the material. All thirteen were heavily armed, with multi-barreled electric propellant guns more than a few years old, despite their relative inferiority to newer models, they were still quite proficient in killing Magi due to the sheer amount of ammunition they can unleash.

I found a man in the complex lugging a breach missile, made for the intended use upon the building if it was ever compromised by hostile forces.

I placed myself in front of the door, and drew my revolver flicking on the magnetic accelerator underneath the barrel. The thirteen men already present were all pointing their gun at the door, no warnings ready at their lips as indicated by the stress constricting their throats.

I fired the bullet when the man carrying the launcher took a knee and fired the breach explosive at my door.

I did not know what hit first, to be frank, the heat generated by the round could most certainly cause the warhead to explode yet I was still undecided on the fact that the round could have been faster than a missile. The desired effect was reached, as my door held save for the hole I punched through with my own round. A gout of flame emanated from the entry and I reloaded my gun as I walked through the charred hallway.

I was tempted to ending the lives of the men, but seeing as their weaponry was ruined I wasn't too keen on utilizing my only normal rounds on them. They'd have to suffer for now.

Making my way through the bunker was far easier than my first time, since I kept up a mental map this time around. I didn't keep the system up, to conserve energy, so checking corners was a must.

It was the third corner, when I met resistance once more and utilized my Structural Analysis to gain the advantage. Focusing my intent on the hallway around me yielded me critical information easily.

A heavy machine gun was set up, covering the hallway. I would have impressed if not for the fact that the defense system was designed around the key factor that the bunker was expected to be captured. The entire structure could be theoretically held by a single squad of infantry for an indefinite period of time. In a haphazard, yet logical, way it also pointed out that this entire mission had been an elaborate trap. The defenses required manpower and several electronic codes to even access, citing the betrayal of most of the higher command echelon in the city.

Of course, despite their forethought into the plan, they did not account for the fact that someone trying to escape would have and anti-armor cannon on their back. The aforementioned piece of equipment was far too dangerous to leave somewhere as insecure as a foreign embassy. Despite the fact I was one of the very few mages that use modern technology, the rifle was still relatively strong in the area it was specialized in and I wasn't comfortable leaving it around haphazardly.

I took the massive weapon of my shoulder, setting the shell within to a thirteen yard flight set, before firing it from my cover. The recoil was far more manageable than my first shot, but was still jarring enough that the explosion from the round combined with it managed to make me stumble. The shell I had utilized in the base had not had its explosive round armed for safety reasons, so I was more than slightly taken aback by the blast. I reloaded the gun and moved past the wreckage of metal, gathering supplies from the equipment that remained.

I didn't even make it past five feet before I was met with more opposition. The magnetically-accelerated ball bearings they had fired doing a fine job of suppressing me behind cover barely past my knee. The new armor worked exceptionally well, my old ceramic armor would have shattered against that particular onslaught, and I felt bruises rather than holes upon my torso. If I could get this armor into the hands of every soldier I most definitely would.

I took the grenades I had acquired from scavenging the previous position and threw them from my position, the light red trails of their arcs fading quickly before my opponents screamed as shrapnel tore them to pieces. They were made in mind of fighting in a populated zone, and the arcs of red were a universal sign of hunker down. Aside from the slight 'safety feature' the grenades worked just as they did from before the war. My father had told me that they were more prevalent afterwards and going out armed only with dozens of explosives wasn't nearly as a valid tactic in the time before.

Thankfully a gun managed to survive the explosion and I acquired it with ease after simply resetting the clip. The six barrels of the gun unleashed an amazing two hundred rounds per second on full automatic, but that was for targets such as magi or stronger than average monsters. I set in on burst fire, which simply fired eighteen rounds from every press of the trigger. The ball bearings within were shaped like Minie balls first utilized in the American Civil War, little more that and stacked upon each other the entire length of the clip. The entire ammunition supply from one magazine could be expended in less than four seconds. The newer versions had two more barrels and their bullets accelerated far faster, but all in all these guns were the same.

I broke off the stock of the gun, and the added modular extensions. I held the entire thing easily within my still human right arm, and the low recoil of the gun would assure me that I would not need to use two for it on any occasion.

Then the bunker quaked, my position finally being assailed by artillery fire from the walls. Each artillery cannon would take more than fifteen minutes to turn towards the bunker, but even the secessionists were not crazy enough to turn all the guns and present themselves for an outside attack. I would be facing, at the very least, a half a dozen guns, a quarter of the combined might of the cannons on the walls and with their one and a half minute reload times, I would probably have around a ten second window between barrages, or a couple before each shot.

I took one of their communicators and listened intently, giving a sigh with slight exasperation as they extensively detailed their plans to capture me. The irrepressible factor that they may be accidentally feeding me misinformation was apparent, but so was the fact that the secessionist forces were largely remnants of the failed military coup. I paid some heed towards the information, but took it with a grain of salt as I ran through the mostly empty bunker.

As it would be if I wasn't going through the artillery barrages they planned for me. I had managed destroyed the control interface that controlled the gas system underneath the city, making sure that the formulated compound will not be released and seep into my pores. The specially formulated compounds could only be circumvented by a fully pressurized system, and that was made ineffective by the electric turbines designed to throw sharpened glass disks down the tunnels and tore through clothing like paper.

With the gas and the turbine systems destroyed I only needed to face automated sentry guns, a lot better match up for me than artillery to be quite honest, especially with the weaponry I had at hand.

I opened the last hatch and let myself down into the sewers.

Only for me to dodge a sudden slash of liquid, instead of arriving in relative safety. I immediately returned fire with the assault weapon I had acquired, the multitude of bullets ripping into the man, before he suddenly disintegrated into water.

Liquid golems, probably controlled and used as the eyes and ears of the mage that controlled the underground while he orchestrated his plan elsewhere. I performed another battle scan of my surroundings and I wasn't too pleased, to find the massive runic array that was set to the sewer systems of the city. I was effectively within the home ground of a magi, the most dangerous place to be in since he maybe had months to prepare for the arrival of an eventual enemy. I had no doubt my chances of survival were far greater amidst the artillery barrage than within this Boundary Field.

"Ah, it seems Hachioji was correct in his assumption of your choices, butcher." I triangulated the voice to a box and had to give a sigh of suffering. "Aww, does the child-soldier not like the sound of my voice?"

"I can't say that it's unpleasant, though I would not say no towards not hearing it all." I stated with utmost candor, giving another small sigh as I found hundreds of the devices dispersed through the environment, despite the lack of cameras.

"Oh, my!" The voice chimed as I ran through the sewer system, I formed more throwing knives pressing them into the numerous holding areas sewn within my cloak. At a dozen per time, I filled the front and back of my cloak quickly. They would provide decent protection due to the scale-like arrangement they were specifically arranged, but the cost of keeping them al present in the world was quite staggering. At the very least I had maybe fifty percent of my circuits attuned to their corporeality and the reinforcement that contributed towards the protection they provided. "Do I hear the voice of the and only Number Forty Seven?"

"My reputation precedes me." I stated with a dry chuckle, my circuits were throbbing steadily and bringing more than a slight amount of discomfort from their use. "May I have the pleasure of knowing who you are?"

"Shinoki Hiroto." The voice chimed in with glee, as if she child that had found a new toy to destroy. "I cannot believe that your death will mark the day that the movement will be acknowledged as a power by your heretical leaders!" The water magus' voice echoed unpleasantly through the sewers, "All your actions, saving so many lives, will forever be remembered in our new nation's history!"

"So I'm to be a sacrifice?" I asked lightly, "What of my partner then?"

"We'll let her go after we take care of her." A male voice chimed in amidst the wanted giggling in the background. "Nice and pretty." I could hear the leer in his voice, and his motives weren't all that muddy for me to detect. "Witnesses need to carry more evidence than just their words after all."

I heard a cry of pain from the man and the sounds of something organic tearing

"Now, now general." Shinoki chimed, "Remember what I told you? About how I wouldn't let something like that happen within my sight?" The man screamed obscenities. "And now you've spoken all about it and made me doubt you." Another squelching sound. "Sorry about that Forty-Seven" the girl sounded slightly melancholic this time around. "How about we just start killing you now?"

Water golems pushed themselves up from the running stream between the walkways. I fired the assault weapon until it clicked empty, then smashed it through the remainder of golems with my Reinforced strength, I was tempted to reinforce it but the blades beneath my cloak held an ulterior and ultimately superior purpose. The sturdy construction survived until the thirty seventh of the steadily amassing army, the amount of familiars were surreal but to be expected given I was fighting in the home territory of a magus. The worst weapon you can give to a magus was a warning, since magic allowed the utilization of nearly everything out there.

I made a misstep and they surged around me, and I immediately activated my defensive measures.

The metal I used for the knives was a composite designed to substitute copper in energy transfer, it was far more rigid and could handle more wattage. The metal was developed in Switzerland when their weather suddenly grew a fondness for lighting storms after a failed weather control experiment, and was able to amplify and send it out with little more than a negative current to a desired target. They weren't able to control the weather, but their country was undoubtedly one of the safest in the world. The transaction for the metal was costly, and didn't come with the information as to how to make it viable for defensive purposes, but made up for itself in cases such as this.

I had a small piece grafted into the small of my back, implanted the same time my GPS locator was. The metal insured that lighting magic would be mostly ineffective to most of our forces, but Tohaska Rin had found a much better way of utilizing it.

I touched the nearly-invisible, miniscule tattoo on my chest and sent power through it. The Rune was extremely effective in its job of converting my magical energy into electricity, and that electricity was conducted and amplified through he dozens of conducting knives within my cloak. The Lighting Shield, as dubbed by the creator herself, was costly to maintain and I could only manage it myself for about thirty seconds before I would need to rest it for a minute. Rin Tohaska was supposedly always wreathed in the defensive measure, and I could easily believe it due to her nearly quadruple number of circuits compared to mine.

The wave of energy wiped out the water golems with impressive speed, their own forms working against them as lighting arced from one to the other faster than my eye could catch. I directed the lighting energies into the massive Boundary Field by doing the simple matter of taking out the charge of its atoms. I was more than slightly giddy when I found out that I managed to destroy a large part of the water-based field.

I heard screeching through the boxes once more.

"That isn't fair!" The girl whined petulantly over the channel. "You weren't supposed to know how to do that just yet!"

"Being prepared in for any situation is its own virtue, Hiroto-san." I stated quietly, and I heard a huff from the speakers. The fact was true that no matter how much one tries to overcome the weakness of their chosen element, the more it become apparent. It was for that same reason most magi utilized bizarre, or exotic material to create familiars. My father said he fought with one that controlled liquid metal once upon a time.

"You've only slowed down you're death." The woman said bluntly. "All I really needed to do was slow you down for her to finally get in there…"

I was about to ask who she was speaking off when a glowing butterfly flew into my field, dissipating and taking a worrisome amount of damage before doing so. I followed its trail of golden motes and saw the golden woman mere meters away, softly smiling and eyes closed gently.

"Run, run, Onii-chan~" The girl chanted over the speakers, and I did so with greatest possible haste. The woman seemed to float and disregard reality, her butterflies flying closer and closer and eventually utilizing themselves to eradicate the energy of my shield.

I reached the end of the tunnel, my shield depleted and the golden woman encroaching with terrifying speed. A gust of wind and the appearance of a helicopter signaled my partner's ability to remember emergency procedures regarding captured cities and my own salvation as I leapt thorough the air and onto the craft.

But as I flew through the space a single butterfly touched me, and as with any mental attack I was immediately given a glimpse of a dusty hill surrounded by swords.

…


End file.
